. 


A    TENT    OF 
GRACE 

BY  ADELINA  COHNFELDT  LUST 


BOSTON   AND   NEW   YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 

£bc  iiilicrsiDc  press,  Cambridge 
1899 


COPYRIGHT,  1899,  BY  ADELINA  COHNFELDT  LUST 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE 


CHAPTEK  I 

"Sin,  have  you  any  kid  or  goat  skins  to  sell?" 

It  was  early  November,  but  already  wintry  and 
cold  along  the  beautiful  Khine.  Pastor  Feldern, 
digging  up  some  belated  geraniums  in  the  trim 
parsonage  garden,  half  turned  round  to  look  at 
the  speaker  through  his  silver-rimmed  spectacles. 
It  was  a  young  girl,  probably  about  thirteen  years 
of  age,  with  the  angularity  of  hobbledehoyhood. 
Her  faded  blue  print  gown,  evidently  outgrown 
long  ago,  reached  a  little  below  her  knees.  She 
wore  the  peasant's  wooden  shoes,  and  an  old  gray 
shawl  was  pinned  tightly  under  her  chin.  A  long 
crook  stick  with  several  small  pelts  dangling  from 
it  swung  over  her  right  shoulder. 

"If  thou  wilt  go  round  to  the  kitchen  door," 
said  the  pastor,  "Babbett  will  tell  thee." 

She  passed  him  with  a  curtsy,  swinging  her 
petticoats  as  she  went.  Yes,  Babbett  had  some 
skins.  She  had  saved  them  for  some  time  in  the 
old  smoke-house.  Now  she  went  to  bring  them 
out  for  the  small  merchant's  inspection. 

"H'm,"  said  the  girl,  pouting  her  lips  disdain- 

442317 


•••  .*.  2    -.  .•: :  •: :  ;A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

fully,.  ag  slje  .tufttpd  over  the  skins  the  old  peasant 
.7.  :  J/:  lwonJal};s.py^d'out  on  the  graveled  walk.  But 
there  was  a  covetous  gleam  in  the  downcast  eyes. 
She  slid  the  stick  from  her  shoulders,  the  better 
to  inspect  her  wares. 

"H'm,  indeed,"  echoed  Babbett  wrathfully; 
"look  at  them,  wilt  thou,  before  thou  mak'st 
h'm." 

"It  does  not  need  a  magnifying  glass  to  see 
they  are  worth  next  to  nothing.  How  much  wilt 
thou  take  for  them?" 

"If  they  are  worth  nothing,  I  won't  cheat  thee 
into  buying  them.  Come,  hand  them  back." 

"Yes,  take  them  and  put  them  in  brine,  and 
thyself  with  them.  Mayst-thou  wait  for  a  pur- 
chaser as  long  as  thou  hast  waited  for  a  sweet- 
heart." 

"Sweethearts  thou  mayst  get  in  plenty,  thou 
Jewish  jade.  But  none  but  the  executioner  will 
ever  marry  thee." 

"When  he  cuts  off  thy  head  for  a  foul-mouthed 
old  witch,  I  '11  dance  at  thy  funeral  in  a  pair  of 
brand-new  clogs." 

"Wilt  thou  go,  or  shall  I  give  thee  the  other 
end  of  the  broom?" 

"Well,  for  charity's  sake  and  to  relieve  thee  of 
them,  — here  's  two  kreutzer  apiece." 

"Two  what?  Holy  Father!  Be  off,  I  tell 
thee;  thou  and  thy  Jewish  impudence.  Dost 
think  I  never  sold  skins  before?" 

"Honestly  now,  are  they  worth  more?  Look 
at  this  —  and  that  —  and  there." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  3 

"This,  and  that,  and  there?  Thou  hast  wet 
the  palms  of  thy  hands  and  crumpled  them  up 
like  parchment.  They  are  as  good  and  fine  and 
perfect  skins  as  ever  were  sold  between  the  Neckar 
and  the  Rhine." 

"  Three  kreutzer  apiece,  and  this  one  thrown  in. 
Convince  thyself  if  it  is  not  damaged." 

The  old  woman  spluttered  with  wrath.  "  Three 
pig's  feet  for  a  charm  and  their  blood  to  sprinkle 
in  thy  synagogue.  Thou  shalt  not  have  them, 
thou  skinflint  Jewess." 

"  Then  keep  them  for  a  shroud,  and  mayst  thou 
need  it  quickly,"  retorted  the  girl,  as  she  shoul- 
dered her  stick  and  made  a  great  show  to  be  off. 
But  the  skins  were  in  the  tail  of  her  eye,  and  she 
carelessly  jingled  the  kreutzers  in  her  pocket.  The 
sound  decided  Babbett.  She  was  as  anxious  to 
sell  as  the  other  was  to  buy,  and  equally  as  anxious 
to  get  the  best  of  the  bargain.  "  Six  kreutzer 
apiece  and  thou  mayst  have  them,"  she  said. 

"Now  if  it  were  the  price  of  thy  friendship, 
I  'd  think  it  cheap  and  gladly  give  it  thee.  But 
this  is  business.  Therefore,  two  kreutzer  apiece. 
Here  is  the  money.  Take  it,  and  do  so  quickly, 
before  I  repent  of  the  bargain." 

"  Thou  child  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah !  thou 
saidst  three  kreutzer  just  now." 

"  Did  I  ?  Oh,  very  well.  Here  are  thy  three 
kreutzer,  and  this  skin  thou  must  throw  in." 

"  Throw  thyself  into  the  Rhine !  Now  thou 
shalt  not  have  them  at  all.  I  '11  sooner  make  a 
present  of  them  to  Schmul,  who  '11  soon  be  passing 
this  way." 


4  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"Alas,  poor  Schmul!"  said  the  girl,  in  a  tone 
of  deep  commiseration ;  "  thou  hast  not  heard, 
then,  what  has  happened  to  him  ?  " 

Babbett  dropped  the  skins,  which  she  had  gath- 
ered up  in  great  anger.  She  was  instantly  de- 
voured by  curiosity. 

"  What  has  happened  to  him,  then  ?  Do  open 
thy  mouth  and  speak." 

"  He  has  broken  his  leg." 

Babbett 's  jaws  parted  in  a  wide  gasp  as  she 
squatted  down  on  her  skins. 

"  Broken !  —  the  poor  child !  and  he  has  nei- 
ther father  nor  mother." 

"Well,  for  that  matter,  neither  have  I.  Gently, 
Babbett;  let  me  draw  forth  the  pelts." 

"When  did  it  happen?  How  did  he  come  to 
do  it?  Yes,  yes,  here  they  are." 

"And  none  the  better  for  thy  pressing.  Listen 
thou,  can  I  have  them  ?  " 

"For  three  kreutzer?  No.  But  go  on;  tell 
me  how  it  all  came  about." 

"He  was  trying  to  leap  a  fence,  you  under- 
stand, —  this  skin  surely  is  somewhat  damaged." 

"Nothing  is  damaged  but  thy  imagination.  Go 
on,  then,  do.  How  long  wilt  thou  keep  me  in 
suspense?" 

"  He  was  leaping  a  fence,  when  his  boot  caught 
on  a  big  rusty  nail,  —  three  kreutzer  and  this  one 
thrown  in.  Take  it,  or  leave  it.  My  time  has 
been  wasted  too  long  already." 

"  Four  kreutzer  and  nothing  thrown  in !  What ! 
Thou  wilt  rob  me  like  this,  thou  arch  jade  ?  Here, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  5 

then,  take  them.  Now  wilt  thou  at  last  tell  me 
about  Schmul?" 

"Thanks,  nicely,  thou  dear  Babbett.  One, 
two,  three,  four,  five,  six,"  —she  slung  the  pelts 
on  her  stick  as  she  counted;  "here,  take  thy  ten 
kreutzer;  my  blessing  shall  surely  bring  thee  a 
rich  percentage.  Five  skins  at  two  kreutzer 
apiece  and  one  thrown  in.  Auf  Wiedersehen." 

"Come  back,  this  instant!  Three,  kreutzer 
apiece,  thou  saidst,  —  three  kreutzer.  Thou  for- 
sworn Jewess,  dost  take  me  for  a  fool?  And 
Schmul,  — what  of  him,  poor  boy?" 

"Schmul?"  asked  the  girl,  with  an  indescrib- 
ably droll  air  of  astonishment,  as  she  shouldered 
her  stick  and  carefully  edged  further  away  from 
the  old  woman;  "what  of  him?" 

"His  leg,  his  leg!"  bawled  Babbett,  goaded 
beyond  endurance  in  her  baffled  curiosity. 

"His  one  sound  leg  and  his  two  sound  legs 
send  you  their  best  compliments.  When  last 
seen  —  and  that  was  early  this  morning  —  they 
were  taking  him  across  the  Nassau  frontier  as  fast 
as  they  could  travel.  You  will  no  doubt  see  him 
soon.  Remember  me  most  prettily  to  him,  and 
tell  him  how  nicely  I  forestalled  him." 

She  cleverly  dodged  the  broom  the  enraged 
Babbett  sent  flying  after  her.  The  pastor,  who 
had  been  an  amused  and  edified  listener,  slightly 
inclined  his  head  as  she  passed  him  with  another 
respectful  curtsy.  Then  she  blithely  swung  her- 
self out  of  the  gate  into  the  village  street. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE 


CHAPTER  II 

SCHOOL  was  just  out.  Like  a  pack  of  hounds 
at  full  cry  the  village  youth  came  trooping  down 
the  High  Street.  As  they  saw  the  girl  with  the 
crook  stick  dangling  from  her  shoulder,  they  gave 
a  shout  of  recognition  and  immediately  surrounded 
her. 

"See  there,  if  this  isn't  Jette.  How  do,  Skin- 
nymelink?  " 

"Skingirl,  where  hast  been  all  this  time?  " 

"In  her  own  skin,  of  course." 

"Let  her  alone,  thou  tow-headed  Hans.  She 
is  a  wild  goat  and  butts  like  fury." 

"  Holy  Moses,  Jewess !  Thou  hast  made  a  good 
trade  somewhere.  Thy  stick  can  hardly  hold  all 
the  pelts." 

"Look,  thou  Skinnymelink,  hast  any  marbles?" 

"Hast  thou?"  she  asked  suspiciously. 

"I  asked  if  thou  hadst  any,"  persisted  Hans, 
the  tow-headed. 

"First  show  me  thine,"  she  retorted. 

"Well,  here  are  mine."  "And  mine."  "And 
mine." 

She  looked  at  the  well-filled  bag  each  boy  dan- 
gled in  her  face.  Deep  into  her  own  pocket  she 
dived.  Her  hand  came  out  empty  as  she  said, 
"That  thieving  Schmul  won  all  mine.  But  if 
each  of  you  will  lend  me  one,  I  '11  give  it  back  if 
I  come  out  winners." 

The  yokels  scratched  their  heads  under  their 


A  TENT   OF  GRACE  7 

caps  and  looked  foolishly  at  each  other.  Said 
Hans  sagely,  "And  if  thou  dost  not  come  out 
winners?" 

"But  she  will,"  said  his  sister  Gretel,  who  had 
a  strong  cast  in  her  eye;  "she  '11  cheat  thee  out  of 
every  one." 

"Perhaps  I  would,"  said  Jette,  "if  I  looked 
like  thee,  both  ways  at  once." 

The  boys  laughed  derisively.  Gretel,  who  was 
tall  and  strong,  made  a  furious  grab  at  her.  But 
Jette,  during  her  one  year  of  vagabond  life,  had 
graduated  in  all  the  tricks  of  the  most  accom- 
plished gamin,  and  could  writhe  and  twist  and 
turn  like  the  cleverest  of  them. 

"Go  home,"  she  said,  with  a  mocking  sweep  of 
her  hand;  "go  straighten  thy  conscience  with  thy 
vision  before  thou  wouldst  set  others'  straight. 
And  now  stand  aside,  if  thou  canst.  We  have 
no  further  use  for  thee." 

Gretel  glowered  angrily  upon  her,  but  she  re- 
mained, jealously  watchful  of  her  brother's  inter- 
est. A  ring  was  quickly  formed.  The  boys  put 
their  books  upon  the  ground.  But  Jette  retained 
firm  hold  of  her  stick.  It  dangled  from  her 
shoulder  with  its  suspended  load,  as  she  knelt 
down  and  knocked  out  the  marbles  one  after  the 
other,  with  an  accuracy  of  aim  which  first  aston- 
ished, then  chagrined  the  boys.  As  with  each 
dexterous  shot  their  stock  diminished,  they  set  up 
a  protesting  howl.  There  were  perhaps  a  dozen 
of  them,  ranging  all  the  way  from  seven  to  fifteen. 
Big,  brawny  fellows  some  of  them  were,  who  did 


8  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

a  man's  work  in  the  harvest  field,  and  had  all  the 
muscle  and  traditional  feeding  capacity  of  the 
model  ploughboy;  broad  in  the  girth  and  long 
of  limb,  as  stupid,  thick-headed,  and  numskulled 
as  rustics  remote  from  •  travel  and  all  intercourse 
with  the  outside  world  possibly  could  be.  Fed 
upon  superstition,  local  influence,  and  family  tra- 
ditions, they  were  ready,  like  their  elders,  to  let 
prejudice  run  riot,  at  any  and  every  provocation. 

"Come,  Jewess,  thou  'rt  not  playing  fair,"  said 
a  big  hulking  fellow,  as  again  her  accurate  shot 
sent  the  ring  of  marbles  flying  in  all  directions. 

She  jumped  to  her  feet,  flushed  and  disheveled, 
the  pelts  dangling  from  the  stick,  bobbing  up  and 
down  in  her  excitement. 

" What!  "  she  screamed,  "thou  darest  say  that? 
Have  n't  I  knocked  out  each  game  fair  and  square? 
Say,  thou,  haven't  I,  now?"  She  thumped  each 
boy  on  the  chest,  as  she  went  the  rounds  asking 
this  question. 

"I've  lost  all  my  marbles,"  whined  a  little 
flaxen-haired  fellow,  as  he  prodded  his  knuckles  in 
his  eyes. 

"So  have  I."  "And  I."  "And  I."  "Mine 
are  all  gone,  too,"  chorused  the  rest. 

"I  told  you  so,"  said  Gretel,  who  now  saw  a 
way  of  getting  her  innings.  "I  said  she  'd  cheat 
you  all  out  of  every  one." 

She  advanced  upon  Jette,  who,  flushed  and 
elated,  was  slipping  her  winnings  into  a  stout 
leather  bag  already  well  filled. 

"Give  him  back  his  marbles,"  she  commanded, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  9 

pointing  to  the  little  whiner.  For  answer  the 
girl  drew  the  mouth  of  the  bag  well  together  and 
tightly  wound  round  the  string  several  times. 
Then  with  a  thud  she  dropped  it  into  her  pocket. 

"He  can  win  them  back  next  time  I  come,"  she 
said,  balancing  her  stick.  They  were  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  village.  On  one  side  stretched 
the  dusty  chaussee,  down  which  the  post-chaise 
occasionally  rattled  on  its  way  to  Cologne,  or 
when  guests  visited  the  village.  On  the  other 
stretched  a  beautiful  woods,  through  which  a  foot- 
path conducted  to  the  pastor's  orchard  and  vege- 
table garden.  A  stream  clear  as  crystal,  one  of 
the  numerous  tributaries  of  the  Ehine,  wound  in 
and  out  among  the  trees  lifting  their  bare 
branches  to  the  sky.  In  the  spring  the  whole 
village  turned  out  to  wash  their  linen  in  this  pure 
and  limpid  water,  and  the  children  came  to  bathe 
in  the  hot  days  of  summer.  The  girl  turned 
towards  the  chaussee,  but  Gretel  struck  her  a 
sounding  blow  in  the  face. 

"Thou  dost  not  stir  from  this  spot  until  thou 
givest  him  back  his  marbles,"  she  said. 

The  Jewess  spat  in  her  face.  "Thou  cat!  not 
one  shall  he  have,  not  one." 

Then  they  all  fell  upon  her.  She  kicked  and 
struggled  and  scratched,  and  every  muscle  in  her 
body  worked  in  vigorous  resistance.  She  made  a 
little  run  backward,  doubled  herself  up,  ducked 
down,  and  with  a  sudden  lurch  butted  the  biggest 
bully  full  in  the  stomach,  so  that  he  fell  sprawling 
upon  the  ground,  howling  with  pain.  She  was  as 


10  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

fleet  as  a  roe,  and  had  she  been  willing  to  abandon 
the  miserable  crook  stick,  she  might  have  escaped. 
But  before  she  had  fairly  time  to  turn  around,  they 
had  seized  hold  of  it.  They  caught  her  by  her 
long  black  braids  and  swung  her  round  till  she 
could  hear  each  individual  hair  crack.  The  palms 
of  her  hands  were  gashed  before  the  stick  was  torn 
from  her  despairing  clutch.  They  brought  it 
down  upon  her  shoulders  and  limbs  till  it  clung 
there,  slippery  with  blood.  The  girl  she  had  spat 
at  clawed  her  face  till  the  eyes  shone  out  of  a  raw 
and  shapeless  mass.  They  trampled  upon,  they 
kicked  her,  they  scattered  her  clothing  in  a  thou- 
sand shreds  to  the  wind.  They  seized  upon  the 
skins,  and  tearing  them  apart  with  their  teeth, 
sent  them  flying  after  her  clothing.  One  last 
wail  she  gave  when  she  saw  this.  Maybe  the 
mother's  spirit  hovering  near  her  forsaken  child 
caught  it  and  wafted  it  to  the  living;  for  while 
the  tiger  crew  bent  over  her  with  the  blood  in- 
stinct rampant  beyond  control,  a  lusty  thud  came 
with  a  vigorous  thwack  upon  their  backs  and 
limbs.  A  howl,  a  startled  cry,  "His  reverence, 
the  Herr  Pastor,"  a  hurried  shambling  of  feet, 
and  the  trees  with  their  gaunt  bare  branches 
crackled  in  the  wind  above  the  pastor,  where  he 
knelt  beside  the  bleeding  form  of  the  maltreated 
child. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  11 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  Frau  Pastorin  sat  in  the  south  window 
stitching.  Pure  white  bands  they  were,  of  finest 
linen.  Every  thread  in  that  precious  linen  had 
passed  through  the  Frau  Pastorin 's  own  soft, 
dimpled  hands.  The  flax  was  grown  in  her  own 
fields.  She  had  carded  and  spun  it  in  the  long 
winter  evenings.  Then  she  had  it  woven  into  the 
finest  of  weaves  by  the  village  loom.  Babbett, 
the  old  peasant  servant,  who  had  accompanied  her 
to  the  parsonage  from  her  father's  rich  homestead 
in  far-away  Pomerania,  washed  it  in  the  clear, 
limpid  woodland  stream,  and  laid  it  to  bleach  in 
the  parsonage  orchard,  where  the  perfume  of  the 
white  clover  refreshed  the  weary  senses  of  the 
traveler,  as  the  mail  coach  rattled  by.  Whiter  or 
finer  stitched  bands  than  adorned  the  shirts  of  the 
Herr  Pastor  and  the  Herr  and  Frau  Pastorin 's  son, 
Herr  Friedrich  Feldern,  familiarly  called  Fritz, 
now  cramming  for  his  doctor's  examination  at  the 
University  of  Bonn,  were  not  to  be  found  in  the 
whole  Rhine  province.  The  Frau  Pastorin  was 
justly  proud  of  her  stock  of  fine  white  linen.  Some 
of  it  came  from  her  great-grandmother,  and  but 
for  its  pious  associations,  was  as  good  for  use  as 
when  that  now  peacefully  reposing  dame  had  laid 
it  out  to  bleach,  her  own  self.  The  Frau  Pasto- 
rin's  linen  closet  was  catalogued  in  strict  regard  to 
social  etiquette.  On  the  topmost  shelves,  as  befitted 
their  quality,  the  embroidered,  rosemary-perfumed 


12  A   TENT  OF  GRACE 

'company  linen,  distinguished  by  different  colored 
satin  ribbon,  tied  in  neat  rosettes,  reposed  in  aris- 
tocratic exclusiveness.  Then  came  the  middling 
class,  which  was  only  for  occasional  use,  distin- 
guished by  less  elaborate  ribbon.  Finally  came 
the  every-day  wear-and-tear  stock,  which  was  not 
ornamented  at  all,  except  for  the  exquisite  neat- 
ness of  grouping,  and  marked  in  the  red  linen 
sampler  stitch,  dear  to  the  hearts  of  our  grand- 
mothers. Babbett's  kitchen  and  glass  towels 
piled  up  the  lowest  shelves,  each  article  tabbed 
with  a  neat  loop  of  linen  tape,  and  marked  the 
same  as  the  rest.  This  closet,  with  its  exquisite 
array  of  rosemary-scented  linen,  was  the  Frau 
Pastorin's  jewel  casket,  the  heirloom  which  was 
to  descend  to  Fritz,  as  in  part  it  had  descended 
to  her.  It  was  the  monument  which  every  good 
German  housewife  of  those  times  —  fifty  odd 
years  ago  —  reared  to  her  memory,  by  which  her 
habits  and  housewifely  qualities  were  judged. 

As  the  Frau  Pastorin  sat  complacently  stitch- 
ing in  the  resplendent  afterglow  of  the  departing 
sun,  she  was  a  tonic  for  the  weary  soul  to  look 
upon.  Time  certainly  had  been  a-nodding  since 
she  was  young.  Her  cheeks  were  as  rounded,  as 
rosy,  and  as  smooth  as  a  baby's.  The  dimple  in 
her  chin  came  and  went  with  the  calm  placidity 
of  her  thoughts.  A  white  mull  cap,  adorned  with 
broad  lilac  satin  ribbons,  sat  lightly  upon  her 
thick  ash-blond  hair,  parted  Madonna  fashion  in 
the  middle,  from  which  it  rippled  behind  her  rosy 
ears  into  broad  plaits,  wound  around  the  back 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  13 

of  her  head.  A  young  girl  may  be  beautiful  by 
virtue  of  her  grace,  her  youth,  her  vitality.  The 
Frau  Pastorin's  beauty  was  the  matronly  queenli- 
ness  of  middle  age,  with  the  frolics  of  young  girl- 
hood still  lurking  in  her  dimples;  the  gayety  of 
a  heart  which  had  never  come  into  contact  with 
anything  unclean,  and  a  purity  of  habit  which 
shone  on  her  brow  and  beamed  from  her  well- 
opened  gray  eyes.  The  impression  she  made  was 
that  of  immaculate  purity.  If  ever  in  God's 
world  there  lived  a  being  who  practiced  "cleanli- 
ness next  to  godliness,"  in  the  very  spirit  of  the 
letter,  it  was  the  Frau  Pastorin,  not  alone  in  her 
own  personal  habits,  but  in  all  her  surroundings. 
Everything  in  the  parsonage,  from  attic  to  cellar, 
smelled  sweet  and  shone  resplendent  with  purity; 
and  the  Frau  Pastorin's  mind  was  as  clean  as  her 
body.  Filth,  whether  mental  or  physical,  was 
abhorrent  to  her.  She  held  that  all  vice  had 
its  stronghold  in  dirt.  There  would  be  no  need 
of  doctors  or  hospitals,  if  only  every  one  would  be 
clean.  "We  cannot  all  be  princes  in  station  or 
wealth,"  she  was  wont  to  say,  "but  every  one  may 
be  a  prince  in  cleanliness  and  behavior."  When 
a  beggar  came  to  her  door,  she  first  gave  him  a 
piece  of  soap  and  a  towel.  When  he  had  made 
lavish  use  of  both  at  the  yard  pump,  he  got  his  fill 
of  bread  and  meat  and  wine.  If  the  women  stood 
gossiping  at  their  doors  and  the  Frau  Pastorin  was 
spied  coming  down  the  street,  they  would  make  a 
hasty  dash  for  their  young,  and  immediately  their 
howls  of  protest  made  music  in  the  distance,  as 


14  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

their  faces  were  scrubbed  and  they  were  quickly 
hustled  into  clean  pinafores.  For  the  prevention 
of  every  ill  flesh  is  heir  to,  the  Frau  Pastorin  had 
but  one  universal  remedy,  —  it  was  cleanliness. 

The  pleasing  twilight  was  fast  fading  into  dusk. 
The  Frau  Pastorin,  mindful  of  her  eyesight, 
folded  up  her  work  and  put  it  into  her  large 
wicker  work-basket.  The  broad  window-sill  was 
filled  with  myrtle,  rosemary,  and  jasmine,  and 
monthly  roses.  Since  Fritz  was  grown  up,  and 
no  longer  in  need  of  her  motherly  care,  these 
flowers  were  the  Frau  Pastorin 's  children.  Strong, 
sturdy,  and  healthy  they  were,  perfuming  the  whole 
house  with  their  fragrant  blossoms.  For  miles 
around,  the  myrtle  in  the  Frau  Pastorin's  window 
furnished  the  wedding  crowns  for  the  peasant 
maidens.  It  was  considered  to  bring  luck  to  the 
wearer.  Everything  that  came  from  the  parson- 
age savored  of  a  benediction. 

The  Frau  Pastorin  plucked  a  leaf  here  and  a 
leaf  there,  then  looked  out  of  the  window  into  the 
gathering  darkness.  The  Herr  Pastor  had  slipped 
out,  as  was  his  wont,  after  drinking  his  afternoon 
coffee  and  eating  his  cake.  He  had  lounged  forth 
in  his  down-at-heel  slippers  and  his  "Schlafrock," 
with  his  shabby  black  velvet  skull-cap,  which  he 
always  wore  in  the  house  in  cold  weather,  pushed 
back  on  his  scant  gray  hairs.  It  was  growing 
cold.  He  should  have  been  home  long  ago  in 
his  warm,  comfortable  Stube,  where  a  roaring 
fire  leaped  in  the  large  Herrenhuter  stove,  and 
the  fine  silver  sand  on  the  snow-white  floor  glis- 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  15 

tened  like  flecks  of  stray  moonbeams.  The  Herr 
Pastor's  chess-table,  with  the  red  and  black  chess- 
men, stood  just  as  he  had  left  it  in  front  of  the 
cushioned  settle  in  the  warm  ingle-nook.  Surely 
it  was  more  inviting  within  than  without.  The 
Frau  Pas  tor  in  wondered  what  could  keep  him. 

As  she  continued  to  peer  into  the  darkness,  she 
saw  him  staggering  along,  bearing  a  heavy  burden 
in  his  arms.  Another  rescued  sheep,  she  thought, 
with  commiseration.  They  often  tumbled  down 
from  the  hill  where  they  were  browsing  into  the 
stream  below.  Many  a  four-footed  patient  had 
the  Herr  Pastor  nursed  back  to  health  and  re- 
stored to  its  owner,  a  rich  cattle-dealer  in  the  vil- 
lage, who  received  back  his  property  as  a  matter 
of  course.  This  sheep  must  be  terribly  heavy, 
she  thought.  The  Herr  Pastor  could  hardly  stag- 
ger along.  She  hastily  called  to  Babbett,  and 
flinging  her  shawl  across  her  shoulders,  went  to 
meet  him.  It  was  time.  Unable  to  proceed  fur- 
ther, panting,  he  had  braced  himself  against  a 
stout  tree,  for  the  houses  were  sparingly  scattered. 
No  one  had  seen  him.  Lights  were  lit  and  cur- 
tains drawn  long  ago.  The  villagers  were  at 
their  Abendbrod-supper.  Babbett  came  clatter- 
ing behind  her  mistress  in  her  wooden  shoes. 

"Help  thy  master,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin, 
"quickly.  He  has  rescued  another  sheep,  and 
the  weight  is  more  than  he  can  bear." 

Babbett  gave  an  amazed  cry.  "'Tis  a  two- 
legged  one  this  time,"  she  said;  "the  same  as  you 
and  I,  mistress." 


16  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

The  Herr  Pastor  held  Jette  in  his  arms.  Alone 
and  unassisted  he  had  carried  her  from  the  woods. 
Her  hair,  matted  with  blood,  had  coiled  itself  like 
a  cobra  around  his  throat.  Great  streaks  of  blood 
smeared  his  face  and  hands.  He  motioned  Bab- 
bett  to  take  hold  of  the  child's  limbs.  He  was 
too  exhausted  to  speak.  The  Frau  Pastorin, 
greatly  troubled,  led  the  way  to  the  back  entrance 
into  the  kitchen.  They  laid  the  unconscious  child 
on  the  wooden  settle.  The  light  from  the  lamp 
fell  upon  her  battered  face,  closed  eyes,  and 
bruised  limbs. 

"Holy  Jesus,"  cried  Babbett,  "'tis  Jette,  the 
skin  girl." 

The  Frau  Pastorin  sickened  with  horror.  "Is 
—  is  she  dead?  "  she  faltered. 

"She  may  be  saved,  I  think,  if  something  is 
done  for  her,  and  quickly,"  said  the  Herr  Pastor; 
"the  village  youth  fell  upon  and  maltreated  her. 
As  you  see  her  now,  I  found  her  in  the  woods. 
They  were  beating  her  to  death.  I  could  not 
leave  her  there  alone,  and  there  was  no  one  to 
help  me.  So  I  carried  her  home  the  best  way 
I  could." 

While  he  spoke,  the  Frau  Pastorin  had  been 
busy  tearing  up  strips  of  fine  old  linen.  Babbett 
placed  a  soft  sponge,  some  towels,  and  a  pot  of 
ointment  on  the  kitchen  table,  taking  care  first  to 
spread  papers  over  its  immaculate  surface.  Then 
she  lugged  in  a  big  tub.  She  knew  as  well  as 
if  her  mistress'  had  spoken  what  would  be  the  first 
preliminary.  The  huge  copper  boiler  stood  on 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  17 

the  stove,  filled  to  the  brim  with  hot  water.  It 
was  always  there,  summer  and  winter,  ready  for 
use  at  a  moment's  notice. 

The  Frau  Pastorin  took  down  a  large  pair  of 
shears.  "Papachen,"  she  said  cheerfully,  "do 
thou  go  and  change  thy  linen  and  clothing.  Thou 
art  sadly  in  need  of  it,  I  assure  thee.  Go  to  the 
cupboard  and  refresh  thyself.  This  sheep  thou 
mayst  leave  to  me." 

The  Herr  Pastor  was  tall  and  gaunt,  with  some- 
thing of  a  stoop  in  his  angular  shoulders.  He 
bent  down  to  kiss  his  wife  on  the  forehead. 
Usually  he  kissed  her  on  the  lips.  But  in  his 
present  state  he  knew  she  would  not  have  liked  it. 
He  went,  and  left  the  two  women  to  their  task. 


CHAPTER  IV 

JETTE  got  over  her  hurts  in  gallant  style.  The 
Frau  Pastorin 's  skillful  treatment  and  her  own 
hardy  constitution  battled  successfully  against 
what  at  first  seemed  to  be  a  very  hopeless  case  in- 
deed. True,  it  would  take  some  time  before  the 
swollen  and  disfigured  features  would  resume  their 
natural  shape,  or  the  discolored  skin  its  usual  fair- 
ness. And  worst  of  all,  the  shock  to  her  nervous 
system  remained.  The  horrors  she  had  passed 
through  became  a  perpetual  nightmare.  Towards 
dawn  she  would  start  up,  screaming  in  terror. 
The  whole  scene  of  murderous  attack  was  acted 
over  again.  She  fancied  they  had  her  by  the 


18  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

throat,  and  were  choking  her  to  death.  It  was 
a  very  trying  time  indeed  to  the  household  at  the 
parsonage.  The  healthy  glow  in  the  Frau  Pasto- 
rin's  cheek  paled  to  sallowness,  and  the  stoop  in 
the  Herr  Pastor's  shoulders  intensified.  Time 
and  the  security  of  a  permanent  home  would,  they 
knew,  remedy  this  evil.  The  Herr  Pastor,  with 
his  head  sunk  on  his  breast,  moved  his  chessmen 
mechanically.  He  was  thinking  long  and  deeply. 
The  child  was  convalescing  rapidly;  but  she  re- 
fused to  get  up.  She  clung,  screaming,  to  the 
bedclothes,  imploring  them  not  to  thrust  her  out 
to  be  torn  to  pieces.  The  Herr  Pastor  pushed 
the  chessboard  from  him.  The  red  and  black 
factions  which  had  just  stood  pitted  against  each 
other  in  fiercest  hostility  tumbled  to  the  sanded 
floor.  The  Herr  Pastor  had  made  up  his  mind. 

He  went  upstairs  to  the  whitewashed  attic  room. 
A  small  stove  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  snow- 
white  boards,  diffusing  a  grateful  warmth.  Upon 
the  feather  bed  lay  Jette.  The  bandages  had 
been  removed  from  the  raw  surface  of  her  face. 
The  new  skin  was  forming  nicely  in  patches  here 
and  there.  At  one  time  it  was  feared  she  would 
be  scarred  for  life,  the  sharp  nails  had  so  cruelly 
lacerated  the  flesh.  This  had  been  happily  averted 
by  the  -Frau  Pastorin's  healing  salves  and  oint- 
ments. She  predicted  confidently  that,  given  a 
reasonable  time  for  the  swelling  and  discoloration 
to  subside,  no  disfigurement  would  mar  the  child's 
natural  appearance.  If  the  Almighty  so  willed, 
she  might  thrive  in  perfect  health  and  beauty. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  19 

Jette  reclined  on  her  pillow,  gently  stroking 
Minka,  the  great  parsonage  cat,  who  lay  on  a 
rush-bottomed  chair  near  the  bed.  Minka,  who 
followed  the  Frau  Pastorin  all  over  the  house  like 
a  dog,  had  gravely  shared  her  duties  during  the 
girl's  illness.  She  was  left  in  charge  when  her 
mistress  was  called  downstairs,  or  during  the  in- 
tervals the  patient  slept.  As  soon  as  she  stirred, 
Minka  tiptoed  to  the  partially  open  door  and 
meowed  lustily  till  some  one  came  running  up. 
She  would  sit  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  gravely  eye- 
ing the  patient,  and  when  she  moaned,  sympa- 
thetically lick  her  feet.  Minka  seemed  to  have 
a  proprietary  right  in  the  girl,  and  except  for  her 
meals,  spent  all  her  spare  time  in  the  sick-room. 
When  the  Herr  Pastor  entered,  she  jumped  down, 
rubbed  herself  against  his  legs,  and  politely  sur- 
rendered her  seat  to  him.  He  sat  down,  looking 
at  the  child  with  his  near-sighted  brown  eyes. 
His  clear-cut  Roman  features  were  softened  by 
the  frame  of  finest  gray  hair,  which,  brushed 
straight  from  his  high,  broad  forehead,  fell  be- 
hind his  ears  and  touched  his  shoulders. 

"Thou  art  better,"  he  said,  in  his  strong,  reso- 
nant voice. 

"Not  well  enough  to  get  up,"  she  said  distrust- 

fully. 

"Thou  wilt  not  get  strong  as  long  as  thou  liest 
there,"  he  said.  "See  how  beautifully  the  sun 
shines.  And  the  ponds  are  covered  with  ice. 
Canst  thou  skate?" 

She  nodded.  "I  don't  want  to  go  out,"  she 
said. 


20  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"Is  there  no  one  belonging  to  thee  who  will  be 
uneasy  at  thy  absence?  "  he  asked. 

She  shook  her  head.  "No  one.  My  father  is 
dead.  My  stepfather  turned  me  out  of  doors  to 
get  my  own  living.  He  took  everything  belong- 
ing to  my  mother  and  went  no  one  knows  where. 
All  but  this,"  she  added,  drawing  a  small  bag, 
suspended  round  her  neck  by  a  ribbon,  from  un- 
derneath her  night-jacket;  "my  mother  gave  it  to 
me  secretly  on  her  death-bed,  charging  me  never 
to  part  with  it." 

The  Herr  Pastor  opened  the  small  chamois  bag 
and  drew  forth  a  seal  emblazoned  with  a  coat  of 
arms.  There  was  an  inscription  in  Latin,  which 
he  could  not  very  well  decipher. 

"Whose  was  this?  "  he  asked. 

"My  father's.  It  came  to  him  from  his  father, 
who  got  it  from  my  great-grandfather,  and  so  on, 
from  one  generation  to  the  other,  my  mother  said. 
My  father's  people  were  Spanish,  hundreds  of 
years  ago.  They  were  rich  and  powerful  in  their 
own  country.  Then  a  very  wicked  king  and  queen, 
who  wanted  them  to  change  their  religion,  took 
all  their  land  and  riches  from  them  and  drove 
them  from  the  country." 

"Where  did  thy  father  live?  " 

She  jerked  her  thumb  over  her  shoulders. 
"Over  yonder  in  Nassau.  He  was  rabbi  there. 
He  died  when  I  was  eight  years  old.  Then  my 
mother  married  my  stepfather.  He  was  very 
different  from  my  father.  He  was  a  very  com- 
mon man,  a  Pollack,"  she  said  disdainfully. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  21 

"Thou  shouldst  not  scorn  a  man  because  of  his 
country,"  said  the  pastor,  who  knew  nothing  of 
the  prejudice  the  Jews  have  against  those  of  their 
own  faith  born  on  the  frontier  between  Germany 
and  Poland,  who  are  generally  stigmatized  by  the 
name  of  "Pollack;  "  "the  disdain  of  the  conqueror 
always  clings  to  an  oppressed  race.  Since  when 
is  it  thy  mother  died?  " 

"A  year  ago.  I  was  just  twelve,  and  getting 
on  famously  at  school.  My  mother  was  hardly 
buried  when  my  stepfather  told  me  to  go  and 
take  service  somewhere,  as  I  was  big  and  strong 
enough  to  earn  my  own  living.  Then  he  sold  the 
house,  took  everything  he  could  lay  his  hands 
upon,  and  went  away." 

"What  didst  thou  do?" 

"There  was  a  poor  boy  my  mother  had  be- 
friended, Schmul  Itzig  by  name.  He  supported 
himself  buying  and  selling  small  pelts.  He  took 
me  into  partnership.  At  first  I  was  very  timid 
and  afraid.  My  mother  had  always  kept  me  at 
home,  and  said  I  should  go  away  to  boarding- 
school,  so  that  by  the  time  I  was  grown  up,  I  could 
be  a  governess.  Schmul  said  it  was  better  tramp- 
ing the  highway  one's  own  master  than  working 
one's  self  crooked  in  some  big  family  for  one's 
board,  and  getting  ill-treated  besides.  So  I  soon 
got  used  to  it.  Then  I  found  out  that  Schmul 
cheated  me,  and  having  saved  a  little  money,  set 
up  on  my  own  account." 

The  pastor  softly  stroked  Minka,  who  had 
perched  herself  upon  his  knee.  The  -spirit  of  her 


22  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

father's  race,  lie  thought,  was  in  this  child  who 
had  so  pluckily  fought  life's  battle  alone.  Then 
he  asked,  closely  watching  her,  — 

"What  made  the  village  youth  ill-treat  thee?" 

She  shuddered,  clenched  her  teeth,  and  closed 
her  eyes.  "Because  I  am  a  Jewess,"  she  said. 

The  pastor  shook  his  head.  "Oh,  no,"  he 
said,  "but  because  thou  wouldst  not  return  them 
their  own." 

"But  it  was  not  their  own,  your  reverence.  I 
had  won  the  marbles  in  perfectly  fair  play.  It 
was  strictly  a  matter  of  business.  Friendship  is 
one  thing,  business  another,"  she  persisted,  re- 
peating the  formula  Schmul  had  taught  her. 

"Why  should  they  beat  thee  because  thou  art 
a  Jewess?"  asked  the  pastor. 

She  looked  puzzled.  "I  don't  know,"  she 
finally  said;  "but  this  I  do  know,  that  they  take 
by  foul  means  what  they  cannot  get  by  fair. 
There  are  more  of  them,  and  stronger  than  we 
are;  that  is  why  they  beat  us  and  rob  us,  the 
dogs!  May  lightning  destroy  them !"  she  added, 
grating  her  teeth  angrily. 

"Didst  thou  hear  these  things  in  thy  home?" 
asked  the  pastor. 

"Your  reverence!  no,  indeed.  My  father, 
bless  his  memory,  was  gentle  and  kind,  always 
studying  his  books.  Everybody  loved  him. 
While  he  was  alive,  my  mother  went  about  the 
house  singing,  smiling,  and  laughing.  She  did 
not  laugh  or  sing  much  when  she  married  that 
Pollack,"  she  said  vindictively. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  23 

"Then  you  have  picked  up  all  this  knowledge 
on  the  highway?  "  said  the  pastor. 

"Schmul  told  me,  your  reverence.  Did  n't  they 
beat  his  parents  to  death  over  yonder  in  Nas- 
sau ?  Yes,  indeed.  Some  man  in  the  village  owed 
his  father  money.  He  would  not  pay  it  back. 
Schmul' s  father  said  if  he  would  not  pay,  he  must 
give  up  his  house  and  cow  and  furniture.  Then 
the  man  went  around  to  every  house  in  the  place. 
At  night  when  the  Jews  were  asleep,  they  came 
and  smashed  their  windows  and  broke  in  their 
doors.  Those  whose  doors  they  could  not  break 
in,  they  dragged  through  the  broken  windows 
with  reapers'  hooks  fastened  to  long  ropes. 
Schmul  saw  his  father  dragged  from  his  bed  with 
a  reaper's  hook  thrust  through  his  chin.  They 
took  all  the  money  they  found  in  the  house,  then 
set  fire  to  it.  If  Schmul  had  not  fled  to  the  woods, 
they  would  have  killed  him  too.  Next  day  the 
gendarmes  came  and  took  them  all  to  prison. 
May  their  bones  rot  there!  But  Schmul's  parents 
were  dead.  He  was  a  homeless,  outcast  orphan." 

The  pastor  still  softly  stroked  Minka.  His 
hand  trembled.  He  shuddered  once  or  twice  when 
he  looked  at  the  excited  child. 

"Thou  hast  no  one  in  the  world  belonging  to 
thee,  then,  no  one  who  would  have  guarded  thee 
from  such  a  companion?  "  he  said. 

She  shook  her  head.  "No  one  at  all.  My 
mother  was  an  orphan  like  myself.  Somewhere 
in  the  world,  perhaps,  some  relatives  of  my  fa- 
ther's may  be  living.  But  I  don't  know  how  they 


24  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

are  called,  or  where  they  may  be  found.  I  am 
all  alone." 

"  Wouldst  thou  not,"  said  the  pastor  cheerfully, 
"like  to  be  adopted  into  some  good  home,  where 
thou  couldst  be  taught  cleanly,  self-respecting 
habits,  and  grow  up  into  a  useful,  happy  life?" 

"  I  would  doubtless  have  to  work  till  my  back 
grew  round  and  crooked,"  she  said  distrustfully. 

"Thou  wouldst  be  put  only  to  such  tasks  as 
are  suitable  to  thy  age  and  strength,"  said  the 
pastor.  "  We  all  have  to  work,  —  each  in  his 
own  way.  'T  is  the  only  thing  which  gives  a  pur- 
pose to  life.  It  is  not  seemly  that  a  child  of  thy 
age  should  roam  the  highway  at  the  mercy  of 
everybody.  A  girl,  especially.  Ugh !  Thou  dost 
not  know  of  the  frightful  dangers  lying  in  wait 
for  thee.  Happily  thou  never  shalt  know.  Thou 
wouldst  not  like  to  shoulder  thy  stick  and  go  forth 
again  as  thou  hast  been  doing?" 

He  was  sorry  when  he  had  said  it.  She  wrung 
her  hands  and  moaned  pitifully. 

"Not  that,  your  reverence,  not  that.  Please, 
please  do  not  thrust  me  among  those  wild  beasts 
again.  I  am  not  well;  indeed,  I  cannot  get  up. 
Oh,  Minka,  dear  Minka,  what  shall  I  do  ?  " 

"Thou  shalt  stay  here,"  said  the  pastor;  "thou 
shalt  have  a  home  here,  where  it  has  long  been 
desolate  for  a  child's  voice  since  my  only  son  went 
away.  But  thou  must  be  good  and  obedient.  In 
this  house  no  strife  has  ever  entered.  Thou  must 
lay  aside  thy  wild  wishes,  thy  intemperance  of 
speech.  Docile  and  gentle  as  befits  thy  sex  thou 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  25 

must  become.  That  is  all  that  will  be  required 
of  thee." 

"Stay  here?"  she  said.  "Stay  here?"  she  re- 
peated incredulously.  "But  thou  —  dear  God,  you 
are  Christians!" 

"Here,"  said  the  pastor,  "thou  wilt  grow  up 
without  knowing  of  any  distinction.  Neither  must 
thou  ever  mention  it.  Thou  shalt  live  strictly 
according  to  the  requirements  of  thy  religion. 
Trust  me ;  I  know  all  about  it.  Thou  canst  have 
thy  own  pots  and  pans,  thy  own  dishes.  Thy  own 
meats  thou  canst  buy  and  prepare  thyself.  Thou 
shalt  keep  thy  Sabbath  and  thy  holidays.  Aided 
and  encouraged  thou  wilt  be  in  the  strict  dis- 
charge of  thy  religious  duties.  /So  long  as  thou 
respectest  them  thyself,  thou  wilt  find  others  to 
do  soT  Don't  cry,  my  child.  Have  I  refused 
shelter  to  a  stray  sheep,  and  should  I  refuse  it  to 
thee?  I  think,"  he  added,  with  a  twinkle  in  his 
near-sighted  brown  eyes,  "thou  wilt  feel  like  get- 
ting up  now." 

Downstairs  he  said,  "The  child  is  better,  and 
will  soon  be  about  again.  She  will  remain  here 
for  good  and  all.  Thou  wilt  teach  her  to  grow 
up  into  a  good  woman,  eh,  Liebste  ?  And  see  thou 
here,  Babbett,  the  child's  nerves  are  terribly 
shaken.  Thou  must  have  patience  with  her  when 
she  assists  thee  in  thy  duties  until  she  grows  quite 
strong  again." 

"We  have  everything  in  the  house,"  said  Bab- 
bett, with  a  puzzled  look,  "but  nerves.  If  she 
must  have  any  of  that,  your  reverence  had  better 


26  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

send  word  with  the  carrier  next  time  he  starts  for 
Cologne." 

The  Herr  Pastor  smiled.  "Let  it  be,  my  good 
Babbett,"  he  said  good-naturedly,  tapping  her  on 
the  shoulder.  "I  don't  think  we  will  commission 
the  carrier  this  time." 

The  Frau  Pastorin  said  nothing.  In  her  placid, 
contented  life  the  first  disturbing  element  had 
come.  She  felt  that  never  again  would  it  be  as 
it  had  been  before. 


CHAPTER  V 

So  Jette  remained  at  the  parsonage.  And  the 
villagers  called  her  "Pastor's  Jette."  She  was 
adopted  into  his  household;  she  was  part  and 
parcel  of  his  belongings.  That  was  enough. 
Once  a  fortnight  she  went  to  Neustadt,  six  good 
miles  from  Neukirch,  —  as  the  village  was  called, 
—  to  the  rabbi  for  religious  instruction.  Punc- 
tually at  sundown  every  Friday  evening  she  rested 
till  the  sun  went  down  again  the  following  night. 
She  bought  her  own  meats,  killed  according  to 
the  requirements  of  her  faith,  and  prepared  them 
in  the  vessels  set  apart  for  her  own  use.  When 
the  family  took  their  meals,  she  sat  at  a  little 
table  by  herself.  Babbett  was  inclined  to  grumble 
at  this,  for  she  looked  upon  Jette  as  no  better  than 
herself.  But,  as  the  Herr  Pastor  demonstrated 
to  the  Frau  Pastorin,  the  child  could  not  acquire 
proper  table  manners  in  the  kitchen.  She  came 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  27 

of  good  blood,  and  must  be  treated  accordingly. 
She  had  no  dowry;  her  whole  fortune  consisted  in 
herself.  The  more  attractive  she  would  be  when 
grown  up,  the  better  prospect  of  a  good  settlement 
she  would  have  in  life.  The  Frau  Pastor  in,  who, 
according  to  the  fashion  of  most  German  wives, 
was  accustomed  to  let  her  husband  act  for  her, 
readily  acquiesced.  She  had  a  great  deal  of  prac- 
tical common  sense,  and  she  saw  the  truth  of  the 
pastor's  keen  perception.  It  was  a  little  irksome 
at  first  to  have  the  strange  child  sit  diffident,  shy, 
and  silent  at  her  own  little  table,  but  in  course  of 
time  one  gets  reconciled  to  everything.  The  girl 
became  quiet,  tractable,  and  docile.  No  one  can 
pass  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death 
without  its  leaving  an  impression  even  on  the 
youngest  mind.  And  though  Jette  gave  no  out- 
ward sign,  — her  nights  were  peaceful,  her  days 
cheerful,  —  the  experience  she  had  passed  through 
was  graven  on  her  mind  and  on  her  heart  like 
molten  lead. 

Jette  being  a  perversion  of  Henriette,  the  Frau 
Pastorin,  who  thought  it  vulgar,  scrupulously 
called  her  by  her  full  name.  The  Herr  Pastor, 
who  was  fond  of  diminutives  as  he  was  of  kittens, 
kisses,  and  babies,  called  her  Jettchen.  And  Bab- 
bett,  who  could  not  all  at  once  get  accustomed  to 
regard  the  vagrant  child  in  the  light  of  respec- 
tability, called  her  Jette.  Babbett  resented  the 
girl's  intrusion  into  her  kitchen,  and  was  very 
averse  to  letting  her  help  with  any  of  her  house- 
hold duties.  By  and  by,  when  Babbett  returned 


28  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

from  church  on  a  Sunday  and  found  a  hot  dinner 
nicely  prepared,  instead  of  having  to  bustle  about 
herself,  she  grew  more  reconciled.  Jette  was 
kept  busy  from  morning  till  night.  When  her 
duties  about  the  house  were  finished,  the  Frau 
Pastorin  taught  her  the  sampler  stitch,  to  knit 
and  to  sew.  In  the  evening  she  took  her  spinning- 
wheel  till  it  was  time  to  go  to  bed.  But  she  had 
one  great  compensation.  All  day  Saturday  she 
could  read.  The  contents  of  the  Herr  Pastor's 
bookshelves  were  at  her  disposal.  There  she 
rioted  to  her  heart's  content.  Heaven  only  knows 
what  that  young  brain  absorbed  and  brooded  over 
the  rest  of  the  week.  Kant,  Schlegel,  Schiller, 
Heine,  Goethe,  Bulwer,  all  were  mixed  up  in  a 
heterogeneous  jumble.  If  the  Herr  Pastor  had 
known,  his  fine  silky  gray  hair  would  have  stood 
on  end.  He  thought  she  confined  herself  to  the 
light  works  of  fiction  which  had  been  Fritz's  own 
particular  property  when  he  was  her  age,  the 
beautiful  Rhine  legends,  works  of  chivalry,  a  care- 
ful selection  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  books  of  travel, 
German  history,  simple  biographies  of  celebrated 
men  and  women.  She  saved  up  her  kreutzers  and 
commissioned  Miiller,  the  carrier,  with  many  vows 
of  secrecy,  to  buy  her  a  pocket  edition  of  Schiller's 
poems.  She  knew  them  by  heart,  but  she  went 
to  bed  and  rose  again  with  this  precious  little 
volume  hidden  in  her  breast.  The  same  carrier 
brought  a  liberal  supply  of  books  and  magazines 
once  a  fortnight  to  the  Herr  and  Frau  Pastorin 
from  Cologne.  That  was  always  a  feast  day  to 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  29 

Jette.  Such  books  as  were  thought  suitable  for 
her,  she  was  allowed  to  read.  Secretly  she  de- 
voured them  all.  Once  Babbett  found  "Ernest 
Maltravers "  under  her  pillow,  and  suspecting 
something  wrong,  threatened  to  tell  the  Frau 
Pas  tor  in.  Babbett,  good  soul,  never  read  any- 
thing herself,  except  the  cards,  which  she  punc- 
tually consulted  every  Friday  before  going  to  bed. 
In  a  moment  of  good  nature,  she  had  confided 
this  secret  to  Jette,  who  was  a  great  deal  awestruck 
by  this  necromancing.  Each  Friday  night  of  the 
new  moon  she  reverentially  tiptoed  into  Babbett 's 
room,  where,  by  the  dim  light  of  a  tallow  dip,  they 
crouched  like  a  pair  of  conspirators,  breathlessly 
alert  for  the  slightest  noise,  while  they  reveled  in 
the  dim  mysteries  of  the  future.  Jette  sat  shiv- 
ering at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  wrapped  in  an  old 
quilt,  while  Babbett  perched  on  a  stool,  the  cards 
spread  out  on  a  little  table  before  her.  Only 
Minka,  who  had  attached  herself  to  Jette  and 
slept  on  the  rush-bottomed  chair  near  her  bed, 
was  the  sole  witness  of  these  secret  conclaves;  and 
Minka,  of  course,  could  not  tell,  and  would  not  if 
she  could.  Babbett  was  perfectly  well  aware  that 
the  Herr  and  Frau  Pastorin  would  have  strongly 
disapproved  of  these  proceedings.  So  when  she 
threatened  Jette  with  exposure,  that  young  damsel 
spiritedly  promised  to  retaliate ;  whereat  complete 
rout  and  vanquish  of  the  old  peasant  woman;  and 
Jette  was  left  in  undisturbed  possession  of  her 
lawless  readings. 


30  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 


CHAPTER  VI 

ABOUT  Christmas  the  Herr  Studios,  Fritz,  the 
son  of  the  house,  came  home  for  the  holidays. 
Like  sunrise  in  May  he  came,  bounding  with  joy- 
ous life,  waking  the  echoes  of  the  staid  old  parson- 
age into  gay  song  and  laughter.  With  his  stu- 
dent's cap  set  rakishly  upon  his  thick,  fair  curls, 
his  guitar  slung  over  his  shoulders,  he  vaulted 
from  the  post  chaise  at  the  gate,  hugged  father 
and  mother,  who  had  run  out  to  meet  him,  and 
with  an  arm  around  each,  fairly  waltzed  them  up 
the  graveled  path  into  the  house.  The  warmth 
of  sunshine,  the  gay  abandonment  of  a  happy 
heart,  the  infectious  joy  of  life,  Fritz  brought 
with  him  as  his  companions.  His  brown  eyes  — 
dear,  beautiful  eyes  of  velvety  softness,  his  father's 
eyes  without  their  nearsightedness  —  danced  with 
fun  and  the  intense  enjoyment  of  existence.  He 
thrummed  his  guitar,  and  in  his  sonorous,  deep 
baritone  sang  love  ditties  to  his  mother.  He 
caught  her  around  the  neck  twenty  times  a  day, 
rubbed  his  cheek  —  upon  which  the  down  of  boy- 
hood still  lingered  —  against  hers,  stroked  her 
white,  plump  hands,  and  admired  her  till  she 
blushed  like  a  schoolgirl.  He  played  chess  with 
his  father,  and  stupefied  that  clever  tactician  with 
a  most  brilliant  draw.  From  attic  to  cellar  his 
voice  reechoed  in  merriment.  He  kicked  up  his 
heels  like  a  colt,  challenged  the  pastor  to  feats  of 
strength,  compared  biceps  with  him,  and  taught 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  31 

his  mother  the  Laendler,  the  new  waltz  step.  He 
imitated  every  actor  and  actress  he  had  seen,  and 
he  did  it  in  such  a  droll  manner  that  the  tears  of 
merriment  ran  down  his  listeners'  cheeks.  The 
pastor  lived  over  again  his  own  student  days  when 
he  stood  on  guard  opposite  his  son  with  the  foils 
grasped  in  his  hand.  Into  the  house  came  life, 
joy,  and  merriment.  The  pastor  received  an 
assortment  of  long-stemmed  pipes  with  immense 
china  bowls,  and  the  portrait  of  the  king  or  old 
Marshal  Blucher  on  every  one  of  them.  For  the 
Frau  Pastorin  Fritz  brought  a  handsome  sandal- 
wood  box,  lined  with  a  baker's  dozen  of  Maria 
Farina,  that  precious  perfume  so  dear  to  the 
German  feminine  heart.  Babbett,  his  old  nurse 
and  playmate,  was  not  forgotten.  He  came  into 
the  kitchen  with  a  gayly  checked  kerchief  pinned 
over  his  shoulders,  and  a  cap  with  rainbow  rib- 
bons perched  askew  on  his  head.  Fritz  was  only 
twenty,  but  he  was  full-grown,  broad-chested,  and 
square-shouldered  like  a  man,  as  indeed  he  could 
not  help  being,  as  everything  throve  into  strength 
and  beauty  under  his  mother's  judicious  care.  He 
surprised  the  old  woman  by  coming  behind  her 
and  putting  his  hands  over  her  eyes.  Then  he 
jerked  her  round,  and  when  she  saw  him,  she 
screamed,  then  flopped  upon  the  kitchen  chair  and 
doubled  herself  up  with  laughter. 

"How  dost  thou  like  me?"  he  asked,  smirking 
at  himself  in  the  little  glass  over  the  table. 

He  took  off  the  cap  with  a  flourish.  "  'T  will 
become  thee  immensely  when  thou  goest  to  church 


32  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

on  a  Sunday,"  lie  said,  dropping  it  lightly  into 
her  lap.  The  kerchief  followed  suit.  He  had 
wound  a  string  of  colored  glass  beads  around  his 
wrist,  and  undecidedly  fingered  them  as  he  took 
them  off.  Jette  came  out  of  the  poultry  yard  up 
the  kitchen  steps,  and  met  the  full  glance  of  his 
large  brown  eyes  straight  into  her  own.  He 
turned  away  with  a  shiver  of  repulsion. 

"Who  is  yon  hideous  object?"  he  asked  Bab  - 
bett,  in  a  low  tone. 

"'Tis  the  Jewish  child  the  mistress  took  into 
the  house." 

"Indeed.  I  saw  her  last  night  and  wondered 
what  she  was  doing  here.  'Tis  a  pity  mamma 
could  not  have  picked  up  something  handsomer. 
I  hate  ugly  people.  Here,  do  thou  give  her  this 
string  of  beads.  'Twas  a  pretty  girl  at  the  Kir- 
mess  sold  them  to  me.  I  would  not  have  the 
memory  of  her  rosy  cheeks  profaned." 

He  swung  himself  out  of  the  kitchen.  One 
could  hear  him  whistling  the  serenade  from  "Don 
Giovanni  "  as  he  went  down  the  passage  back  into 
the  sitting-room.  He  did  not  know  he  left  a 
broken  heart  behind.  A  child's  heart,  it  is  true; 
but  children's  sorrows  are  far  more  poignant  than 
grown  people's;  their  inexperienced  vision  sees  no 
remedy  beyond.  Poor  Jette.  She  had  overheard 
every  word.  Fritz's  sonorous  voice  could  not 
easily  be  subdued  into  a  whisper.  She  was  quite 
recovered  now  except  for  the  scabs  and  bruises 
which,  with  the  best  of  care,  would  take  some 
time  to  disappear.  Jette 's  feelings  were  mostly 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  33 

dormant  yet.  She  had  never  known  what  vanity 
was.  Now  it  was  aroused.  She  studied  herself 
in  the  glass.  What  she  saw  there  made  her  recoil 
in  horror.  Swollen,  discolored  features,  greasy 
with  ointment,  a  mouth  askew,  eyes  half  closed. 
She  thought  herself  hideous,  horrible  beyond  com- 
pare. She  would  never  be  different.  She  was 
disfigured,  an  eyesore  in  a  spot  where  all  else 
was  beautiful.  In  all  her  life  she  had  never  suf- 
fered so  intensely.  When  first  she  saw  Fritz,  she 
felt  she  must  adore  him.  Unseen  and  unnoticed, 
she  had  laughed  at  his  pranks  and  warmed  her 
desolate  heart  in  the  sunshine  of  his  presence. 
She  had  wept  tears  of  longing  when  he  caressed 
his  mother,  and  felt  jealous  when  like  a  great 
baby  he  put  his  arms  around  his  father's  neck. 
The  neighboring  "  honorationen  "  young  Fraulein 
adored  him.  He  rode  and  drove  with  Thekla 
von  Hermersdorff,  the  Professor's  daughter,  whose 
baronial  castle  was  near  by.  Thekla  was  seven- 
teen, small,  dark,  petite,  vivacious  as  a  Parisi- 
enne,  her  father's  only  child,  and  heiress  to  all 
his  wealth.  When  Fritz  should  have  his  doctor's 
diploma,  he  would  settle  in  Bonn,  and  then  there 
would  be  a  wedding.  The  Frau  Pastorin,  bridling 
with  pride,  invariably  harped  upon  this  subject 
when  she  showed  Jette  how  to  stitch  her  immacu- 
late shirt  bands.  She  rang  the  changes  upon  this 
theme  in  every  conceivable  form  of  variation.  It 
was  always  clear  and  distinct :  Fritz  was  to  marry 
an  heiress,  and  have  full  scope  for  his  extraordi- 
nary abilities.  Of  course  it  would  be  Thekla; 


34  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

why  not  Thekla?  They  had  known  each  other 
since  childhood;  her  father  was  professor  at  the 
university.  He  would  be  of  immense  use  to  Fritz 
in  his  future  career.  In  course  of  time  Fritz 
would  be  a  professor  himself;  his  father-in-law's 
influence  would  be  of  great  weight.  The  young 
couple  would  spend  their  holidays  at  the  castle,  — 
how  charming,  how  delightful,  to  have  her  dear 
son  and  his  beloved  wife  and  their  darling  children 
so  near  her.  Of  course  there  would  be  children, 
her  grandchildren,  oh,  dear,  simple  soul!  She 
lost  herself  in  an  endless  vista  of  ecstatic  contem- 
plation during  the  stitching  of  those  fine  white 
bands.  Magic  power  those  bands  ought  to  have 
had,  for  the  thoughts  which  were  interwoven  with 
them.  The  bands  were  finished  to  make  way  for 
others,  but  the  same  thoughts  always  remained. 
Happy  privilege  of  the  present,  to  which  it  is  not 
given  to  see  beyond  its  own  limited  vision. 

In  Jette's  eyes  Fritz  was  a  hero.  He  was  the 
first  gentleman  with  whom  she  had  come  into 
direct  contact.  The  neighboring  Honorationen- 
gentry,  upon  whom  she  looked  with  awe,  and 
worshiped  as  belonging  to  a  sphere  far  removed 
from  hers,  were  his  associates  and  equals.  When 
Thekla  von  Hermersdorff  rode  by  on  her  white 
pony  and  danced  gayly  into  the  house,  she  stood 
from  afar  eagerly  devouring  every  detail  of  her 
appearance,  and  longing  with  a  desperation  that 
amounted  to  heartsickness  to  be  like  this  elegant, 
easy-mannered  child  of  the  world.  For  Thekla 
had  the  grace  and  distinction  of  manner  that  all 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  35 

high-bred  German  Fraulein  have,  —  the  hallmark 
of  caste  and  breeding.  She  might  at  least  try  arid 
pattern  herself  after  her.  She  eagerly  watched 
the  half -coquettish,  wholly  gracious  inclination  of 
the  head,  just  the  least  little  bit  sideways,  the 
graceful  ease  with  which  she  used  her  hands,  the 
light  elegance  of  her  movements.  She  felt  abased 
to  the  dust  by  her  own  inferiority.  No  wonder 
Fritz  had  called  her  hideous,  if  those  were  the 
kind  of  people  he  was  accustomed  to  as  his  daily 
companions. 

One  afternoon  the  young  people  came  in  from 
skating  on  the  pond.  There  was  quite  a  number 
of  them.  They  crowded  into  the  sitting-room,  and 
unanimously  demanded  coffee  and  cake.  Jette 
was  kept  busy  running  backward  and  forward. 
The  best  silver  service  had  to  be  fetched  out,  the 
finest  china,  the  fragrant  linen  used  only  on  rare 
occasions.  Everybody  would  have  been  just  as 
well  satisfied  to  have  their  coffee  in  the  usual 
every-day  fashion.  But  the  Frau  Pastorin's  punc- 
tiliousness would  have  been  outraged.  So  when 
at  last  the  fragrant  Mocha  made  its  appearance, 
it  was  greeted  with  a  shout  of  joy.  There  were 
hardly  hands  enough  to  wait  upon  everybody. 
Such  quantities  of  cake  as  were  consumed !  Again 
and  again  Jette  had  to  trot  to  the  kitchen  to  re- 
plenish the  coffee-pot.  Fritz,  who  sat  next  to 
Thekla,  demanded  his  fourth  cup  in  stentorian 
tones.  As  Jette  handed  it  to  him,  her  hand  ever 
so  lightly  touched  his.  He  shivered,  drew  his 
brows  together,  and  looked  at  her  with  such  a 


36  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

feeling  of  repulsion  that,  confused  and  frightened, 
she  dropped  the  cup  and  its  contents  plump  into 
Fraulein  von  Hermersdorff's  lap.  The  young 
Fraulein  wore  a  violet  velvet  dress  trimmed  with 
narrow  bands  of  sable,  which  had  just  come  from 
the  modiste  at  Cologne.  Fritz  jumped  up  with 
a  smothered  exclamation ;  the  Frau  Pastorin  hur- 
ried to  the  young  lady's  side,  full  of  distress. 
Everybody  looked  daggers  at  the  girl,  who,  trem- 
bling and  frightened,  prayed  the  earth  would  open 
and  swallow  her.  "Clumsy,  awkward,  stupid 
rustic,"  muttered  everybody.  If  Thekla  was  an- 
noyed, she  did  not  show  it.  She  composedly  fol- 
lowed the  Frau  Pastorin  to  her  room,  and  seemed 
more  upset  by  her  profuse  apologies  than  the  dam- 
age done  to  her  dress. 

"Go  thou  to  the  kitchen,"  said  the  Frau  Pas- 
torin sharply  to  Jette,  who  hovered  near  with  a 
sponge  and  towel,  "and  do  not  show  thyself  in  the 
sitting-room  any  more  when  the  company  is  there, 
thou  awkward  rustic,  thou." 

"Do  not  scold  her,"  said  Thekla,  cheerfully 
shaking  out  her  dress;  "she  could  not  help  it,  I 
am  sure." 

She  looked  at  Jette,  who  with  difficulty  kept 
herself  from  bursting  into  a  storm  of  weeping. 
Where  every  one  had  nothing  but  blame  for  her, 
Thekla' s  goodness  entirely  overcame  her.  As 
Thekla  took  the  towel  from  Jette's  hands,  the 
piteous  appeal  in  Jette's  deep  blue  eyes  stirred 
Thekla' s  very  soul. 

"Thou  couldst  not  help  it,"  she  said,  raising 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  37 

the  drooping  chin,  as  if  she  were  consoling  a  child. 
Then,  indeed,  the  floodgates  of  the  girl's  grief 
broke  loose.  The  Frau  Pastorin,  scandalized  be- 
yond measure,  bade  her  be  silent,  and  wanted 
to  hurry  her  from  the  room.  But  Fraulein  von 
Hermersdorff  gently  interposed. 

"Let  her  remain  with  me,  I  beg,"  she  said, 
"until  I  have  made  myself  presentable.  Pray  do 
not  keep  the  others  waiting  on  my  account.  I 
shall  be  with  you  again  in  a  minute." 

"She  is  an  angel,"  said  the  local  doctor's  wife, 
when  the  Frau  Pastorin  returned,  extolling  the 
Fraulein's  goodness.  "If  that  had  happened  to 
me,  I  should  feel  more  inclined  to  box  the  of- 
fender's ears  than  to  caress  her." 

"Thekla  can  afford  to  be  generous,"  said  Frau- 
lein von  Sprechnau,  the  old  ex-court  Fraulein, 
who  dwelt  at  the  old  Schloss  up  the  mountain; 
"the  loss  of  a  dress  more  or  less  won't  make  much 
difference  to  her." 

"Fraulein  von  Hermersdorff  has  cultivated  her 
feelings,"  said  the  pastor,  with  his  fine  smile,  "as 
she  has  her  manners.  Hers  is  the  goodness  of  a 
high-bred  heart." 

Meanwhile,  Thekla  was  busy  comforting  Jette. 
She  sobbed  so  piteously,  and  shook  so  with  the 
intensity  of  her  grief,  that  Thekla  pulled  one  of 
the  Frau  Pastor  in 's  elaborately  worsted -worked 
footstools  forward,  put  Jette  upon  it,  and  seating 
herself  beside  her,  laid  the  girl's  head  in  her  lap, 
where  her  tears  added  their  quota  to  the  already 
irretrievably  ruined  dress.  Thekla  was  perfectly 


38  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

silent,  only  passing  her  hand  gently  over  the  close- 
cropped  black  hair.  For  one  of  the  first  things 
the  Frau  Pastorin  had  done,  when  Jette  was  car- 
ried unconscious  into  the  house,  was  to  cut  off  the 
long  black  braids  close  to  the  scalp,  which,  indeed, 
on  account  of  their  hopelessly  tangled  condition, 
was  imperatively  necessary.  When  the  sobs  had 
grown  less  violent,  the  girl  groped  for  Thekla's 
hand,  and  timidly  pressed  it  to  her  quivering  lips. 

"Oh,  Fraulein,"  she  said,  raising  her  tear-swol- 
len eyes  to  the  young  lady's  face,  "I  love  you  so." 

In  her  young,  exceptionally  favored  life,  Thekla 
had  received  a  great  deal  of  admiration.  Indeed, 
she  demanded  it  as  her  natural  heritage.  But  no 
devotion  had  ever  touched  her  as  this  naive  love 
declaration.  Her  eyes  moistened,  and  she  blushed 
rosy  red  with  gratification. 

"Since  when  hast  thou  loved  me,"  she  asked 
gayly. 

"  Since  the  nightingale  sung  in  the  elder  bush. 
That  very  night  you  passed  by  on  your  white 
pony.  The  Herr  Baron,  your  father,  rode  by 
your  side.  You  looked  so  sweet  and  gracious, 
and  you  vanished  so  quickly,  it  made  me  think  of 
Schiller's  '  Maedchen  aus  der  Fremde. ' ' 

"That  is  surely  a  flattering  comparison,"  said 
the  young  lady,  smiling;  "thou  seem'st  to  know 
thy  Schiller  very  well." 

"I  have  read  all  his  poems,"  said  Jette  proudly. 

"Hast  thou  no  companions  of  thy  own  age?  " 

"I  have  no  time  for  play,  except  on  the  Sab- 
bath. I  prefer  to  read  then.  Besides,  whom 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  39 

should  I  play  with  ?  The  girls  in  the  village  are 
not  nice.  They  were  worse  than  the  boys  when 
they  fell  upon  and  beat  me.  No,  indeed.  I  can- 
not bear  the  sight  of  them." 

"Dost  thou  not  feel  very  lonely  at  times?" 
"Yes,  now.     Since  the  Herr  Doctor  has  come. 
He  is  always  merry,  and  has  so  many  companions. 
Ah,  it  must  be  very  nice  to  have  a  father  and 
mother." 

"I  have  no  mother,"  said  Thekla;  "I  do  not 
even  remember  her.  I  was  quite  young  when  she 
died.  But  I  have  never  missed  her.  My  father 
has  brought  me  up.  Such  a  dear,  good  papa !  I 
don't  know  what  would  become  of  him,  if  he  had 
not  me  to  take  care  of  him." 

"You  take  care  of  your  papa,  Fraulein?  " 
"Yes,  indeed.  You  smile!  It  is  the  truth. 
What  do  you  suppose  he  would  do,  if  I  were  not 
there  to  watch  over  him  ?  He  would  never  think 
of  putting  on  his  hat  or  his  boots.  He  would 
mount  the  rostrum  in  his  slippers.  He  thinks  so 
much  of  his  lectures  all  the  time,  he  has  no  room 
for  anything  else.  What  do  you  suppose  he  did 
one  day  ?  He  had  to  go  out,  and  I  was  not  there 
to  put  his  hat  on  his  head,  place  his  gloves  in  his 
hands,  and  see  that  he  changed  his  house  slippers 
for  his  boots.  He  walked  down  to  the  university 
with  his  coat  unbuttoned,  no  waistcoat  under- 
neath, one  of  my  mull  fichus  knotted  around  his 
neck,  and  my  lace  parasol  in  his  hand,  instead  of 
his  own  stick.  A  nice  plight  for  a  grave  and 
revered  professor  to  be  in,  eh?  " 


40  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"Oh,"  said  Jette,  half  choked  with  laughter. 
She  clapped  her  hands  to  her  mouth,  for  she  did 
not  want  to  appear  impolite.  But  the  picture 
Thekla  had  conjured  up  was  too  irresistibly  comi- 
cal. She  burst  into  a  hearty  guffaw. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Fraulein,"  she  began. 

"  Oh,  laugh, "  said  Thekla.  "  I  laugh,  everybody 
laughs.  It  does  not  hurt  papa.  He  laughs  him- 
self. For  all  that,  he  is  so  beloved,  I  really  do 
believe  if  he  were  to  mount  the  rostrum  in  his 
dressing-gown,  the  students  would  not  even  titter. 
They  all  know  his  absent-mindedness.  That  only 
increases  their  respect  for  him." 

She  rose.  She  had  succeeded  in  diverting  the 
child's  grief  and  giving  her  something  to  think 
about.  She  felt  strongly  interested  in  her. 

"When  the  nightingale  sings  again,"  she  said, 
"and  we  return  to  Hermersdorff,  thou  must  often 
come  to  visit  me.  Wilt  thou  promise  to  do  so?  " 

"Fraulein  —  I  —  you  wish  that  I  should  come 
to  the  grand  castle,  your  home,  —  I  —  to  see 
you?" 

"Why  not?  And  I  shall  expect  you  very  often. 
Auf  Wiedersehen,  little  one.  Remember.  When 
the  nightingale  sings  again." 

That  evening,  before  retiring,  Fritz  said  to  his 
mother,  "Do  me  one  favor,  liebst'  Mammachen. 
Keep  that  ugly  object  thou  hast  taken  into  the 
house  out  of  my  sight  when  next  I  come  home  for 
the  holidays.  I  cannot  explain  how  it  is,  but  she 
makes  me  creep  with  aversion.  I  can  take  no 
comfort  in  my  home  as  long  as  she  is  about." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  41 


CHAPTER  VII 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  Jette  was  sent  to  the 
Wildhof ,  a  large  farm  halfway  between  Neukirch 
and  Neustadt,  and  owned  by  one  of  the  Herr 
Pastor's  parishioners,  whenever  the  son  of  the 
house  came  home.  For  the  next  three  years  he 
was  not  troubled  by  either  sight  or  sound  of  her. 
He  never  inquired  what  had  become  of  her,  and, 
in  fact,  he  did  not  care.  The  present  year  was 
his  last  at  college.  He  was  twenty-three  now, 
had  matriculated  with  high  honors,  and  held  his 
M.  D.  diploma  in  his  pocket. 

It  was  the  year  '48,  a  most  exciting  time  for 
Germany.  The  whole  European  continent  was 
in  a  blaze.  In  Hungary,  Kossuth  was  preaching 
the  gospel  of  freedom.  In  Baden,  the  citizens 
had  revolted.  In  Berlin,  the  people  dragged  their 
dead,  butchered  by  the  soldiery,  before  the  king's 
palace,  shouting,  "Friedrich  Wilhelm  heraus." 
The  imbecile  king,  crouching  in  terror,  came  out 
upon  the  balcony  at  midnight  to  look  upon  the 
dead  and  dying,  the  ghastly  faces  illuminated 
by  innumerable  torches.  The  vast  square  before 
the  palace  was  filled  with  a  clamoring  crowd,  held 
back  only  by  a  superior  armed  force  from  tearing 
him  to  pieces.  His  brother,  the  Prince  of  Prus- 
sia, who  had  led  the  attack  upon  the  people,  was 
obliged  to  flee  for  his  life,  while  everybody  went 
about  singing,  — 


42  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  Come  thou,  come  thou,  Prince  of  Prussia, 
Come  thou,  come  thou,  to  Berlin, 
That  we  may  with  stones  salute  thee, 
And  thy  skin  flay  out  of  thee." 

Whatever  errors  that  same  prince  committed 
in  the  rashness  of  youth  he  nobly  atoned  for  as 
king.  For  nowhere  in  the  annals  of  German  his- 
tory is  there  a  more  beloved  memory  than  that  of 
old  Emperor  William,  the  idol  of  his  people,  the 
hero  of  his  race.  At  the  universities  the  students 
revolted,  and  formed  themselves  into  insurgent 
bands.  At  Bonn,  the  patriot  Professor  Gottfried 
Kinkel,  the  idol  of  his  class,  led  his  pupils  into 
battle.  Among  the  most  enthusiastic  who  gath- 
ered around  his  banner  was  Fritz  —  now  Dr. 
Friedrich  Feldern  —  and  his  friend  and  fellow 
student,  a  young  Hungarian  noble,  Hans  von 
Czechy.  It  was  a  terribly  trying  tinte  for  the 
family  at  the  parsonage.  Even  in  that  remote 
and  peaceful  region  the  flaming  torch  of  insurrec- 
tion reflected  its  lurid  glare,  and  the  din  of  battle 
cast  its  echo  through  the  peaceful  valley. 

In  the  gray  dawn  of  a  summer  morning  there 
came  a  subdued  knock  at  the  parsonage  door.  No 
one  heard  it ;  after  a  most  troubled  night  all  were 
sound  asleep.  All  but  Minka,  who  rubbed  her 
cold  nose  against  Jette's  neck.  She  started  and 
heard  the  knock  repeated.  She  cautiously  tiptoed 
to  the  casement  to  see  who  was  the  disturber. 
A  peasant  stood  at  the  door,  and  he  made  signs 
for  her  to  come  down.  As  if  by  some  premoni- 
tion, the  thought  of  the  son  of  the  house  flashed 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  43 

through  her  mind.  She  hastily  dressed  herself 
and  crept  down.  Then  she  led  the  messenger  a 
little  distance  away,  that  the  household  should  not 
be  disturbed. 

"Out  in  the  ditch,"  whispered  the  man,  "in 
the  Herr  Pastor's  garden  lie  two  young  men  fast 
asleep.  They  are  covered  with  blood,  their  uni- 
forms are  in  rags,  and  they  have  the  red  sash  of 
the  insurgents  across  their  shoulders.  They  are 
students,  as  you  can  tell  by  their  caps.  We  are 
all  stanch  royalists  here,  Fraulein,"  he  hypocriti- 
cally cast  down  his  eyes,  "and  the  Herr  Pastor's 
loyalty  is  well  known.  I  thought  I  would  do  my 
duty  by  reporting  here.  The  Herr  Pastor  will 
know  best  what  to  do.  No  one  is  up  yet;  no  one 
has  seen  them." 

"Go  thy  ways,  Hans,"  she  said,  trembling  all 
over,  "and  never  cast  one  look  behind  thee.  God 
bless  thee  for  thy  loyalty.  Be  sure,  when  the 
proper  time  comes,  thou  shalt  not  be  forgotten." 
He  touched  his  cap  and  went. 

She  watched  him  till  he  had  turned  the  corner. 
Then  like  lightning  she  sped  down  the  road.  She 
knew  well  the  spot  the  peasant  had  indicated.  It 
was  a  ditch  skirting  the  orchard  and  dividing  it 
from  the  vegetable  garden.  In  summer  it  was 
generally  dry  and  filled  with  ferns  and  falling 
leaves.  In  the  gray  dawn  of  the  morning  the 
village  looked  ghostlike  and  silent  as  the  grave. 
She  kept  to  the  middle  of  the  road,  that  the  sound 
of  her  flying  feet  might  be  deadened  in  the  sand. 
The  outskirts  were  reached  in  less  than  no  time; 


44  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

she  gathered  her  skirts  tightly  around  her,  and  like 
a  young  colt,  leaped  the  inclosure  so  as  to  lose  no 
time.  In  and  out  of  the  orderly,  well-kept  gar- 
den beds  she  dodged  till  she  came  upon  the  ditch. 
And  there,  as  described  by  the  peasant,  lay  the 
doctor  and  his  companion,  sound  asleep. 


CHAPTEK  VIII 

JETTE  had  been  told  the  reason  of  her  banish- 
ment to  the  Wildhof  during  the  doctor's  vacations 
home.  In  a  burst  of  rage  Babbett  had  once  taunted 
her  with  it.  She  accepted  it  as  a  matter  of  course. 
It  was  a  relief  for  her  to  be  out  of  range  of  his 
cold  stare  of  dislike,  the  general  air  of  repugnance 
he  openly  showed  when  she  was  around.  Jette 
had  compensations  he  did  not  dream  of.  At  the 
Wildhof  there  were  children  of  all  ages  and  sizes, 
boys  and  girls,  healthy,  hearty,  romping  children. 
There  no  one  showed  any  dislike  to  her.  She  had 
only  such  tasks  to  perform  as  she  pleased;  it  was 
one  long,  delicious  holiday.  She  went  up  to  her 
idolized  Fraulein  at  the  castle;  and  when  the  doc- 
tor was  not  about,  the  Fraulein  often  stopped  at 
the  Wildhof  in  her  afternoon  drives  and  had  coffee 
and  delicious  new  bread  and  butter,  and  freshly 
baked  cake,  served  to  her  out  in  the  grape  arbor. 
And  afterwards  they  all  went  hunting  for  eggs,  — 
could  anything  be  more  heavenly?  'T  is  an  ill 
wind  surely  which  blows  no  one  any  good. 

Now,  as  she  stood  over  his  prostrate  form,  she 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  45 

felt  a  great  aversion  to  touching  him.  But  he 
had  to  be  awakened.  Should  she  rouse  his  com- 
panion? Spite  of  the  disorder  of  his  dress  and 
the  grime  and  dust  covering  him,  he  seemed  a 
strikingly  handsome,  distinguished-looking  youth, 
of  high  birth  and  breeding.  No.  Her  modesty 
would  not  allow  her  to  rouse  him,  a  perfect 
stranger.  The  doctor  knew  her.  Although  she 
already  saw  the  cold  stare  of  repulsion,  when  he 
should  open  his  eyes,  it  must  be  done  forthwith. 

In  the  east  a  faint  rosy  flush  heralded  the  rising 
of  a  new  day.  Broader  and  broader  it  grew.  It 
slanted  athwart  the  sleeping  men's  faces,  and 
enfolded  her  who  was  bending  over  them  in  its 
young  roseate  embrace.  The  doctor  opened  his 
eyes  as  he  felt  himself  vigorously  shaken  by  the 
shoulder.  He  lay  as  if  entranced. 

"Glory  of  the  Morning,"  he  murmured. 

"Arise,"  said  Jette,  "no  longer  must  you  stay 
here.  You  are  in  danger.  I  beseech  you,  rise." 

As  she  spoke,  the  strange  youth  stirred.  He 
raised  himself  on  his  elbow  and  gazed  at  her. 

"Ah,  heavenly  vision,"  he  said. 

The  roseate  glow  had  enfolded  her  now  all  over. 
With  a  hand  of  fire  it  caressed  the  silky  sweep 
of  her  hair  and  flashed  its  fiery  glow  into  the 
intense  blue  of  the  eyes  appealingly  turned  upon 
the  young  men. 

"Herr  Doctor,"  she  urged,  "you  and  the  Herr 
here  must  lose  no  time  in  getting  to  the  parsonage. 
See !  already  the  sun  is  up.  In  another  moment 
the  village  will  be  astir.  No  one  must  see  you 
like  this!" 


46  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

They  both  sprang  quickly  to  their  feet.  "Hea- 
venly Father!  "  said  the  doctor,  "who  art  thou?" 

"Hasten,"  she  urged.  "I  will  stay  here  to  see 
no  one  passes  by."  She  added  quickly  as  she  still 
saw  them  linger,  "The  Herr  Doctor  has  forgotten 
me.  I  am  the  Herr  Pastor's  Jette." 

"Thou!  "  ejaculated  the  doctor,  stupefied.  She 
trembled,  as  his  dislike  of  her  flashed  across  her 
mind.  She  did  not  see  his  half -outstretched  hand, 
but  retreated,  giving  him  a  cold,  composed  look 
out  of  her  dark  blue  eyes.  He  flushed  scarlet, 
grasped  his  companion's  arm,  and  quickly  hurried 
away. 

CHAPTER  IX 

THE  Frau  Pastorin  came  down  to  breakfast 
anxious  and  ill-humored.  She  had  had  a  bad 
night.  Fear  and  anxiety  for  Fritz  had  kept  her 
wakeful.  Neither  was  the  Herr  Pastor  less  anx- 
ious. But  he  strove  to  be  cheerful  and  buoy  up 
his  wife.  The  Frau  Pastorin  sank  into  her  accus- 
tomed seat  at  table,  and  looked  around  fretfully. 

"Get  thee  down,  Minka,"  she  said;  "thou  hast 
no  manners  at  all.  I  do  not  want  thee  on  my 
lap.  Get  down,  I  tell  thee." 

The  big  tabby  cat  was  behaving  very  unusually. 
She  persistently  rubbed  herself  against  her  mis- 
tress, meowed  as  if  she  would  talk,  and  looked 
up  at  her  with  her  round  yellow  eyes.  Then  she 
went  over  to  the  Herr  Pastor  and  did  the  same. 

"Something  ails  the  creature,"  said  her  master, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  47 

"or  she  would  not  behave  so  unusually.  She  is 
telling  us  something.  What  is  it,  then,  old  girl, 
eh?" 

"Where  is  Henriette,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin, 
looking  round;  "she  should  have  brought  in  the 
breakfast  long  ago.  Really,  such  negligence  is 
unpardonable.  I  am  fairly  dying  for  my  coffee." 

She  struck  the  bell  sharply.  Jette  came  run- 
ning in,  a  bright  spot  in  either  cheek.  Her  man- 
ner was  eager  and  alert.  She  tried  to  be  subdued, 
but  her  eyes  were  bright  and  gleaming. 

"Why  hast  thou  not  brought  in  the  coffee?" 
said  the  Frau  Pastorin  severely;  "hast  thou  again 
overslept  thyself  ?  and  look  at  thy  hair !  thou  hast 
not  even  brushed  it;  nay,  but  such  slovenliness  is 
shameful  in  a  girl  brought  up  like  thee." 

The  girl  stammered  and  looked  confused. 
There  were  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  her  lips  trem- 
bled. 

"I  —  I  will  bring  in  the  coffee  directly,"  she 
said;  "we  —  we  have  visitors  to  breakfast,  Frau 
Pastorin." 

"Visitors!  "  said  the  Frau  Pastorin. 

"Visitors,"  repeated  the  Herr  Pastor;  "nay, 
but "  —  He  wheeled  round  and  took  hold  of  her 
arm.  "Come  here,  Jettchen,"  he  said;  "thou 
knowest  something." 

"Herr  Pastor,"  she  said,  "the  Herr  Doctor"  — 

"He  is  here!"  shrieked  the  Frau  Pastorin. 
"Fritz,  Fritz!"  She  flew  out  of  the  room  and 
flung  herself  upon  her  son's  neck  in  the  passage 
outside,  crying  and  sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would 


48  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

break.  Beside  him  stood  his  friend,  who  heartily 
shook  the  Herr  Pastor  by  the  hand.  The  doctor 
kissed  and  caressed  his  mother,  and  led  her  back 
to  the  breakfast-table. 

"Mammachen,  lieb'  Mammachen,"  he  said, 
"thou  must  try  and  control  thyself.  It  must  not 
appear  that  we  came  unexpectedly.  It  might 
arouse  suspicion." 

"Suspicion,"  she  stammered,  "I  do  not  under- 
stand "  — 

"We  came  here  at  dawn,"  said  the  doctor, 
"fresh  from  the  battlefield.  If  the  gendarmes 
found  we  were  here,  it  might  go  hard  with  us. 
We  must  lie  low  a  little  while.  Then  all  will 
blow  over,  and  no  further  danger  need  be  appre- 
hended." 

"Fritz,"  she  said,  "Fritz,"  she  repeated,  "hast 
thou  taken  up  arms  against  the  government?  " 

"In  the  cause  of  freedom  and  liberty,"  he  said, 
"and  so  did  my  friend  here,  Hans  von  Czechy. 
He  is  a  Hungarian,  mamma,  and  the  same  ardor 
which  animates  Kossuth  runs  in  his  veins.  We 
made  our  escape  together.  We  thought  if  we 
once  got  here  in  safety  to  this  remote  place,  we 
would  be  free  from  pursuit.  We  were  overcome 
by  fatigue,  and  went  to  sleep  in  the  orchard,  where 
Jettchen  found  us." 

"And  allow  me  to  say,"  said  Herr  von  Czechy, 
with  a  deep  bow,  "  that  never  was  awakening  more 
agreeable." 

"Jettchen,  thou,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin. 

"Hans  from  the  Wildhof  came  to  the  door," 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  49 

she  said,  "while  you  were  asleep.  He  said  two 
fugitive  insurgents  with  student's  caps  were  lying 
out  in  the  orchard.  I  thought  of  the  Herr  Doc- 
tor, and  went  to  rouse  them  before  any  one  should 
be  stirring,  and  brought  them  here." 

"Thou  didst  this,  fJettchen?"  said  the  pastor. 
He  took  her  hand,  stroked  it  affectionately,  and 
kissed  her  on  the  forehead. 

"Never  in  my  life  will  I  scold  thee  again,"  said 
the  Frau  Pastor  in,  "thou  good  and  discreet  child. 
Thou  hast  acted  like  a  sensible  woman.  Thou  art 
sure  no  one  saw  thee?" 

"It  was  too  early  for  any  one  to  be  stirring," 
interrupted  the  doctor;  "make  thy  mind  quite 
easy,  mamma.  It  was  just  sunrise  when  we  were 
safely  housed." 

"And  I  '11  be  bound  the  sun  never  rose  on  any 
one  in  sorrier  plight,"  exclaimed  the  young  Mag- 
yar noble,  laughing;  "luckily  we  have  had  time 
to  make  ourselves  presentable.  Holy  Father !  but 
we  were  in  a  fine  state." 

"What  has  become  of  your  uniforms?"  asked 
the  Herr  Pastor  anxiously.  "They  must  be  put 
out  of  sight  immediately.  Nothing  must  remain 
which  could  throw  the  slightest  suspicion  upon 
you." 

"They  are  burnt,"  said  Babbett,  who  just  en- 
tered with  the  breakfast  equipage.  "That  Jette, 
I  must  say  she  has  wit  at  times.  When  she  came 
to  me  and  told  me  the  Herr  Doctor  and  his  friend, 
the  Herr  Baron,  were  here,"  she  bobbed  a  curtsy  to 
the  young  Magyar,  "and  what  a  plight  they  were 


50  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

in,  I  made  a  fire  in  the  old  smoke -ho  use,  took 
everything  they  cast  off,  even  to  their  shirts,  and 
burnt  it.  There  is  nothing  but  ashes  left  to  tell 
the  tale,"  she  added  complacently. 

That  was  a  joyous  meal,  that  breakfast.  Bab- 
bett  had  wrung  the  necks  of  a  few  unsuspecting 
pullets,  and  had  prepared  them  as  none  but  she 
knew  how.  The  young  men  sniffed  the  delicious 
incense  of  the  food  and  polished  off  the  very 
bones.  Such  a  meal  they  had  not  tasted  for  many 
a  day.  They  were  both  ravenous.  The  Frau 
Pastorin's  eyes  glistened  with  pleasure  as  she  saw 
one  appetizing  dish  after  the  other  disappear. 
Jette  whisked  in  and  out,  attending  upon  their 
wants.  She  had  had  time  to  run  upstairs  and 
smooth  her  hair  and  tidy  herself  up  a  bit.  She 
wore  her  dress  according  to  the  graceful  fashion 
of  the  times,  cut  low  in  the  neck,  with  short, 
ruffled  elbow  sleeves.  Her  white  throat  rose  like 
a  column  of  polished  marble  from  the  pink  mull 
drapery  of  the  fichu,  and  her  ivory  arms,  rounded 
and  full  like  a  young  divinity's,  most  exquisitely 
tapering  at  the  wrists,  twinkled  in  and  out  of  the 
coffee-cups.  Each  time  she  presented  a  dish  to 
Herr  von  Czechy,  his  fiery  black  eyes  spoke  their 
language  of  adoration,  while  he  thanked  her  as  if 
she  had  been  a  duchess.  Like  a  rare  flower  sud- 
denly bursting  into  bloom,  delighting  and  aston- 
ishing the  beholder,  she  grew  in  loveliness  under 
the  fiery  warmth  of  the  Magyar's  glances.  The 
doctor,  while  volubly  talking  to  his  father  and 
mother  between  big  mouthfuls  and  gulps  of  scald- 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  61 

ing  hot  coffee,  watched  her  furtively  as  if  stunned. 
Had  this  magnificent  creature  evolved  from  the 
stupid,  repulsive,  greasy  object  he  had  looked 
upon  with  aversion  three  years  ago?  Was  it  pos- 
sible in  nature  to  produce  such  results  ?  In  truth, 
the  change  had  been  so  gradual  that  her  daily 
associates  hardly  noticed  it.  Those  who,  like 
him,  had  not  seen  her  develop  from  a  lanky,  over- 
grown child  into  sweetest  girlhood,  found  it  hard 
to  reconcile  one  with  the  other.  She  listened  as 
they  related  their  adventures.  Her  heart  swelled 
with  pride  that  she  had  been  fortunate  enough  to 
be  of  some  service  to  two  such  heroes  as  she  evi- 
dently took  them  to  be. 

"We  fought  behind  the  barricades  at  Baden,'* 
said  the  doctor,  "until  the  soldiery  beat  us  back. 
It  was  no  use  holding  out  against  such  overpower- 
ing numbers.  Our  class  had  banded  together. 
Hans  commanded  us.  He  fought  like  a  lion.  But 
we  were  only  a  handful  against  a  whole  regiment. 
Some  of  us  were  slain.  Some  wounded.  But  no 
one  was  captured.  We  retreated  shouting,  'Lib- 
erty and  equality.'  Then  every  one  had  to  look 
out  for  himself." 

"And  didst  thou  never  think  of  father  and 
mother,  thou  hot  head?"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin 
reprovingly. 

"We  made  our  way  to  Cologne,"  said  Hans 
von  Czechy,  "the  best  way  we  could.  We  were 
in  hourly  danger  of  being  taken.  Then  Fritz 
suggested  that  if  we  could  manage  to  find  our  way 
as  far  as  this,  we  would  be  safe  from  all  pursuit. 


62  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

We  marched  all  night,  and  arrived  at  the  out- 
skirts of  the  village  just  before  dawn.  We  did  not 
wish  to  startle  you  with  a  too  sudden  appearance. 
Fatigue  overpowered  us,  and  we  slept  until  the 
Fraulein,  like  a  guardian  spirit,  appeared  and  led 
us  to  safety,  peace,  and  "  — 

"Home,"  interrupted  the  doctor,  looking  at  him 
with  an  immense  glance  out  of  his  brown  eyes. 

"Thou  hast  placed  thyself  in  fearful  jeopardy," 
said  the  Frau  Pastorin,  "and  endangered  thy  par- 
ents besides.  Was  it  wise  of  thee,  my  son,  to  do 
this?" 

"It  was  well  done,"  said  the  Herr  Pastor,  walk- 
ing up  and  down  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 
"Be  silent,  Liebste.  No  harm  will  come  of  it. 
It  was  just  what  I  should  have  done,  had  I  been 
in  thy  place,"  he  said,  pausing  before  his  son  and 
placing  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"Blessed  are  the  fathers,"  said  the  doctor, 
"who  reprove  their  sons  in  this  wise." 


CHAPTER  X 

"Tnou  codfish,"  said  Hans  von  Czechy,  as 
soon  as  he  and  his  friend  were  alone,  "how  comes 
it  thou  never  told'st  me  of  this  heavenly  maid? 
A  sly,  selfish  rascal  thou  art!  Our  whole  class 
would  have  turned  out  to  do  her  homage." 

The  doctor  made  a  grimace.  "Then  it  is  just 
as  well  thou  wert  left  in  ignorance  so  long.  Fancy 
those  wild,  rakish  fellows  thrumming  their  guitars 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  53 

under  her  window  in  the  still  hours  of  the  night 
and  caterwauling  over  each  other,  'Ich  liebe 
Dich.'" 

"One  hasn't  codfish  blood  in  one's  veins  as 
thou  hast,"  said  Hans.  "Wilt  thou  answer  my 
question?" 

"Being  a  codfish,"  said  the  doctor  coolly,  "is 
a  great  advantage  in  this  world  of  scatter-brains. 
It  preserves  one  from  all  sorts  of  follies." 

"I  would  sooner  let  my  heart  rend  me,"  retorted 
Hans,  "than  allow  it  to  be  ruled  by  such  an  in- 
fernally cool  head  as  thine.  At  all  events,  one 
lives.  Ugh !  fancy  going  through  life  with  reason 
constantly  padlocking  every  blissful  heart-throb 
of  love  and  passion." 

"And  its  agony,"  said  the  doctor.  "Thy  heart 
is  frittered  away  in  such  small  portions,  one  bit 
here,  another  one  there;  thou  hast  not  thought 
of  that." 

"Hallo!"  said  Hans;  he  wheeled  round  and 
looked  at  the  doctor.  A  fine  smile  crossed  his 
lips.  "Nature,"  said  he,  "has  a  fine  rod  in  pickle 
for  thee.  I  shall  hear  of  thee  when  I  am  far  away 
in  my  home  on  the  banks  of  the  Danube.  Thou 
scoffer!  thy  turn  will  come  some  day.  'Twill  go 
hard  with  thee,  my  sly  Fritz.  Like  an  avalanche 
't  will  overtake  thee,  crushing  thy  cool  wits  under 
its  might." 

"Have  I  ever,"  said  the  doctor,  carefully  knock- 
ing the  ashes  from  his  cigar,  "given  thee  cause  for 
thy  present  rhapsody?" 

"Thou  art  so  infernally  sly,"  said  Hans.  "What 


64  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

shouldst  thou  know  of  love's  agony,  if  thou  couldst 
not  gauge  its  bliss?  " 

He  whistled  softly,  plucked  a  leaf  from  the 
trailing  vine  covering  the  arbor  in  which  they  were 
seated,  then  said  again,  "Who  is  this  divine 
maid?  " 

"She  is  an  orphan  without  money,  home,  or 
friends,  whom  my  parents  adopted  into  the  house- 
hold three  years  ago.  I  did  not  remember  her 
existence  until  she  made  herself  known,"  said  the 
doctor. 

"If  I  had  not  been  present  when  she  did  so," 
said  Hans,  "I  should  be  tempted  to  doubt  thy 
word.  I  am  bewildered  how  this  can  be.  How 
couldst  thou  avoid  seeing  her,  if  she  was  a  member 
of  thy  home,  when  thou  earnest  here  to  spend  thy 
holidays?" 

"Thou  wilt  make  me  lose  patience!  Was  she 
not  a  child  then,  a  perfect  child?  Who  thinks 
of  noticing  children?  " 

"Bah!  thou  art  not  telling  me  the  truth.  I 
shall  ask  her  myself." 

"I  will  wring  thy  neck  if  thou  dost,"  said  the 
doctor  furiously. 

Hans  burst  out  laughing.  "Cher  Fritz,"  he 
said  caressingly,  "get  thee  down  on  the  stool  of 
confession.  Out  with  the  truth,  however  painful 
it  may  be." 

"Thou  canst  badger  one  to  death,"  said  the 
doctor.  "  Wilt  thou  believe  me  if  I  tell  thee  that, 
with  the  exception  of  her  first  coming,  I  have  not 
set  eyes  on  her  for  three  years  ?  " 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  55 

"  Thou  dear  Heaven !  If  she  was  here,  thou  must 
have  seen  her." 

The  doctor  intently  studied  his  cigar.  "She 
was  not  here,"  he  said,  "  whenever  I  came  home." 

The  young  Magyar  burst  out  laughing.  "Thy 
mother  was  wise,"  he  said.  "Such  a  temptation 
might  have  been  too  much  even  for  thy  cool  head. 
Fraulein  von  Hermersdorff  would  have  had  good 
cause  to  be  jealous." 

"Look  thou  to  thy  own  account,"  retorted  the 
doctor.  "I  fear  it  is  as  much  as  thou  canst 
straighten  out.  Why  shouldst  thou  drag  in  the 
professor's  daughter?  I  am  not  betrothed  to  her 
as  thou  art  to  the  Countess  Irma." 

This  made  Hans  wince.  He  fingered  a  gold 
chain  he  wore  round  his  neck,  as  if  it  were  some- 
thing which  should  act  as  a  wholesome  curb  to  his 
wandering  fancy.  And  so  in  truth  it  did.  At- 
tached to  it  was  a  miniature  of  the  young  countess, 
to  whom  his  prudent  father  had  betrothed  him 
before  he  let  him  depart  for  the  university.  She 
was  the  daughter  and  only  child  of  a  neighboring 
noble.  Their  estates  adjoined.  At  her  father's 
death  all  his  riches  would  go  to  her.  It  was  an 
eminently  proper  match.  The  Countess  Irma  was 
a  blonde,  sweet-tempered  girl  of  fourteen,  con- 
tentedly eating  bread  and  jam  in  the  schoolroom, 
when  the  betrothal  took  place.  She  was  now 
grown  up,  and  perfectly  satisfied  to  be  married  as 
soon  as  her  lover  should  return  home.  During 
his  four  years'  absence  Hans's  fancy  had  often 
wandered.  But  it  had  never  been  anything  more 


56  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

serious  than  fancy.  He  made  love  to  pretty  shop- 
girls and  coquettish  Kellnerinnen ;  sent  flowers  and 
bonbons  to  the  professors'  daughters;  thrummed 
accompaniments  on  his  guitar  in  their  drawing- 
rooms  to  his  amorous  love-ditties,  and  danced  the 
Czardas  with  a  fire  and  vim  which  carried  all 
female  hearts  by  storm.  The  fair  maidens  adored 
him,  for  he  was  in  the  flower  of  his  youth,  like 
the  doctor,  just  twenty-three,  not  so  stalwart  and 
powerfully  built,  but  with  a  chest  like  a  Hercules, 
biceps  like  steel,  tall,  with  black  eyes  and  hair, 
ivory  white  teeth,  which  twinkled  most  provokingly 
between  full  red  lips  shaded  by  a  black  mustache. 
He  had  all  the  passionate  ardor  of  his  race,  and  was 
the  gracefullest  dancer  along  the  Rhine.  Adroit 
with  the  foils,  he  was  also  a  skilled  and  scientific 
swordsman.  He  had  fought  the  regulation  number 
of  duels,  and  bore  his  scars  as  proudly  as  any  other 
hero.  His  features  were  delicately  handsome,  of 
the  true  aristocratic  type,  chastened  and  refined 
through  a  long  line  of  noble  ancestry.  With  his 
superabundance  of  fiery  ardor,  he  was  calculated 
to  carry  havoc  into  the  feminine  camp.  Many 
there  were  who  had  surrendered  to  him ;  innumer- 
able were  the  scrapes  he  had  got  out  of  and  fallen 
into  again.  But  the  little  miniature  around  his 
neck  was  his  talisman  which  preserved  him  from 
serious  harm.  He  would  fall  back  upon  it  as  his 
consolation,  after  a  peculiarly  severe  rebuff  from 
some  fair  one.  In  sentimental  moments  he  would 
draw  it  forth  and  gaze  upon  the  innocent  childish 
features,  like  a  devout  Catholic  upon  one  of  his 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  57 

saints.  Once  he  fought  a  duel  to  the  death  with 
a  fellow  student,  who  had  audaciously  snatched 
the  picture  from  his  hand  and  kissed  it.  Now  the 
child  was  grown  into  the  woman,  and  he  was  going 
home  to  marry  her.  The  wedding  trousseau  was 
already  under  way ;  there  were  to  be  grand  festiv- 
ities at  Castle  Czechy,  one  of  the  finest  baronial 
piles  on  the  beautiful,  fascinating  Danube.  And 
the  doctor  was  to  go  with  him,  and  be  best  man, 
for  they  two  were  bosom  friends.  It  was  just  as 
well  they  should  leave  the  country  as  soon  as  ex- 
pedient. They  had  taken  too  active  a  part  in  the 
uprising  against  the  government  to  escape  being 
sought  for  long.  And  yet  —  those  student  days 
had  been  beautiful.  The  fullness  of  life  they  had 
indeed  given  him.  Never  again  would  they  return, 
those  golden,  free,  careless  hours,  when  the  wine 
of  existence  was  alluringly  placed  to  the  lips  and 
quaffed  in  deep,  heartfelt,  satisfying  draughts. 
"Die  shoenen  Tage  von  Aranjuez  sind  zu  Ende," 
he  quoted,  with  a  half  sight  of  regret.  He  turned 
to  the  doctor. 

"Tell  me,"  he  said,  "if  thou  canst,  why  does 
the  beautiful  Fraulein  sit  apart  from  us  at  table  ? 
She  seems  as  high-bred  and  well-mannered  as  any 
of  our  patrician  demoiselles." 

"Thy  words,"  said  the  doctor,  "imply  a  re- 
proach to  my  parents  they  are  far  from  deserving. 
It  is  by  their  sanction  she  sits  apart,  not  because 
it  is  their  will.  I  can  give  thee  the  explanation 
in  a  word.  She  is  a  Jewess." 

Like  the  radiance  of  the  sun  suddenly  obscured 


58  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

at  the  full  tide  of  noon,  fell  the  countenance  of  the 
young  noble.  He  seemed  both  astonished  and 
crestfallen.  "A  Jewess,"  he  faltered,  "here  —  in 
thy  father's  house?" 

"Even  so.  She  sits  apart  by  her  own  wish,  for 
fear  of  her  food  being  contaminated." 

"'T  is  the  most  inconceivable  thing  heard  of," 
said  the  Magyar;  "and  thy  parents  encourage  her 
in  this?" 

"  'T  is  part  and  parcel  of  her  creed.  My  father 
sees  to  it  that  she  keeps  all  the  requirements  of 
her  religion  most  scrupulously.  She  is  probably 
more  exact  in  their  performance  than  if  brought 
up  in  the  midst  of  her  own  people.  To  her  't  is 
all  quite  sacred." 

"But  fancy  her  isolation!  to  be  with  you  and 
not  of  you.  To  feel  herself  something  apart,  of  a 
different  race,  people,  persuasion  —  has  thy  father 
acted  wisely  in  this? " 

"Thou  judgest  my  father,"  said  the  doctor,  "as 
a  very  different  man  from  what  he  is.  In  his 
estimation  the  better  life  beyond  is  our  common 
goal.  No  matter  by  what  road  we  travel  to  at- 
tain it,  so  long  as  we  go  about  the  right  way  to 
reach  it.  Thou  as  the  Catholic,  I  as  the  Protest- 
ant, she  as  the  Jewess.  In  this  house  Jettchen 
has  never  been  made  to  feel  any  different  from 
the  rest.  She  has  grown  up  in  it  quite  naturally, 
—  as  part  and  parcel  of  her  surroundings." 

"Wait,"  said  the  Magyar,  "till  the  time  comes 
for  her  to  marry.  Then  she  will  realize  the  evils 
of  her  position." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  69 

"She  will  marry  one  of  her  own  faith,  of 
course,"  said  the  doctor. 

"If  she  does,"  said  Hans,  "she  will  feel  like  a 
bird  in  a  strange  nest.  But  hush.  Here  she 
comes.  Maria!  How  beautiful  she  is." 


CHAPTER  XI 

JETTE  and  the  Frau  Pastorin  came  down  the 
graveled  walk,  followed  by  Minka.  The  blonde- 
haired,  pink-cheeked,  stately  matron  was  the  most 
desirable  foil  one  could  have  wished  for  the  young 
creature  just  budding  into  the  most  exquisite  wo- 
manhood. Her  wavy  black  hair,  glossy  as  finest 
satin,  rippled  and  curled  and  caressed  and  co- 
quetted around  a  face  of  the  purest  oval ;  the  chin, 
in  which  a  dimple  slyly  peeped  forth,  perched 
rather  saucily  forward.  Her  mouth  was  adorable, 
the  upper  lip  short  and  curved,  the  lower  pouting 
and  most  beautifully  moulded.  The  nose  was 
delicately  aquiline,  and  sweeping,  long  black  eye- 
brows contrasted  with  nobly  shaped  eyes  of  the 
most  intense  blue.  "  Stief muetterchen  Augen," 
the  Herr  Baron  called  them.  In  truth,  the  dark- 
est purple  of  the  pansy  could  only  be  likened  to 
the  color  of  Jette's  eyes.  And  those  eyes,  how 
shy,  how  innocent,  how  wistful  in  expression  when 
lifted  to  one's  own.  And  yet  how  full  of  fun,  of 
sweetest  merriment  and  laughter,  hiding  itself 
demurely  under  the  upward  curled  fringe  of  thick- 
est black  lashes.  The  brow,  wide  and  somewhat 


60  ,  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

high,  gave  its  stamp  of  nobility  to  her  features, 
with  their  dazzling  purity  of  complexion.  Her 
hair,  which  had  grown  again  in  luxuriant  pro- 
fusion, was  the  crowning  glory  of  this  beautiful 
being,  a  fit  frame  for  such  a  picture.  Like  the 
Frau  Pastorin's,  it  was  parted  in  the  middle,  from 
where  it  undulated  to  the  nape  of  the  neck,  and 
coiled  in  silky  masses  around  a  most  shapely  head. 
Two  long  curls  fell  behind  either  ear,  and  con- 
trasted with  the  snowy  neck  they  adorned.  Her 
manner  was  one  of  harmonious  repose.  She  held 
prisoner  the  eye,  and  fascinated  the  understanding. 

Afternoon  coffee  was  to  be  served  in  the  arbor. 
There  were  to  be  strawberries,  of  which  the  doctor 
was  very  fond.  Jette  carried  a  basket  of  twisted 
bamboo  in  which  to  gather  them.  As  she  came 
up  the  path,  swinging  her  basket  in  innocent  gay- 
ety  of  heart,  Hans  von  Czechy  looked  at  her  with 
redoubled  interest,  not  untinged  with  melancholy. 
This  beautiful  being,  so  strangely  situated,  so 
isolated  and  apart,  would  she  ever  wake  up  to  the 
true  bitterness  of  her  position?  Some  day,  he  felt 
certain.  Ay,  some  day! 

"Surely,  dearest  Fraulein,  you  will  permit  me," 
he  said,  with  a  bow,  such  as  only  this  fascinating 
rascal  knew  how  to  make.  He  took  the  basket, 
which  she  blushingly  yielded  to  him.  Minka 
stood  undecided,  alternately  looking  at  the  Frau 
Pastorin,  then  at  the  retreating  girl,  with  the 
young  baron  at  her  side.  Then  she  elevated  her 
long  brush  and  scampered  after  them.  Their 
merry  jests  and  laughter  reached  the  ears  of  the 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  61 

Frau  Pastorin  and  her  son,  as  the  former  stooped 
over  her  rosebushes. 

"Minka  has  turned  traitor,  mamma,"  he  said; 
"art  thou  not  jealous?  " 

"It  is  wonderful  how  she  has  attached  herself 
to  Henriette,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin,  cutting  a 
rose  here  and  there;  "thou  hast  no  idea  how  she 
pines  for  the  girl  during  her  banishment  to  the 
Wildhof." 

The  doctor  winced.  He  savagely  kicked  a  peb- 
ble out  of  his  path.  It  flew  high  up  in  the  air 
and  alighted  near  the  strawberry -bed. 

"Fritz,"  said  his  mother  hurriedly,  "will  —  will 
it  be  necessary  to  send  Henriette  away  again? 
Thou  earnest  so  unexpectedly  —  thou  seest  there 
was  no  time  to  "  — 

"Father  in  heaven,"  interrupted  the  doctor, 
"how  one's  sins  find  one  out!"  He  was  scarlet; 
his  eyes  blazed.  "Dear  mamma,"  he  said,  "thou 
knowest  I  shall  not  stay  here  long.  'T  would 
hardly  be  worth  while,  would  it,  to  banish  her 
again?"  He  emphasized  the  word  vindictively. 
"Let  me  assure  thee  that  neither  now  nor  at  any 
other  time  will  it  be  necessary  to  send  her  away 
on  my  account." 

"Oh,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin,  relieved,  "I  was 
afraid  thou  hadst  not  overcome  thy  aversion  to 
her." 

"Aus  Kinder  werden  Leute,"  he  said  oracu- 
larly; "she  has  changed  somewhat  from  then." 

"Yes,  indeed !  "  said  the  Frau  Pastorin.  "Thou 
sawest  her  first  under  very  unfavorable  circum- 


62  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

stances.  Papa  says  her  own  mother  would  not 
have  known  her.  Before  then  she  was  a  very 
likely  looking  child." 

"She  kept  the  promise  of  her  childhood,  then," 
said  the  doctor. 

"She  has  developed  beyond  my  expectations," 
said  the  Frau  Pastorin.  She  spoke  with  as  much 
professional  pride  as  a  gardener  of  a  cherished 
plant  or  flower.  "  'T  is  a  lucky  thing  for  her,  as 
it  is  the  only  dowry  she  will  have.  'T  will  enable 
her  to  get  settled  in  life  the  better  and  quicker." 

"Mamma,"  he  said  suddenly,  "has  — has  she 
ever  been  told  why  she  was  sent  to  the  Wildhof  ?  " 

"Babbett  told  her,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin. 
"Papa  was  angry  with  Babbett,  and  scolded  her 
roundly  for  doing  so.  But  she  was  always  glad  to 
go.  'T  was  a  joyous  holiday  for  her.  They  were 
very  fond  of  her  at  the  Wildhof,  and  quite  spoilt 
her  by  letting  her  do  as  she  pleased." 

The  doctor  bit  his  blonde  mustache.  His  eyes 
glistened  with  a  suspicious  moisture. 

"Thank  God  for  that,"  he  said;  "she  is  not  at 
all  like  any  one  I  have  ever  seen,  and  yet  she  re- 
minds me  so  strongly  of  some  one.  If  I  could  only 
nail  my  elusive  fancy!  It  plagues  me  to  death." 

"I  can  help  thee  out,"  she  said  cheerfully. 
"In  her  manner  and  gestures  she  is  just  like 
Thekla." 

He  gave  her  a  great  glance.  "  Good  Heavens !  " 
he  said,  "thou  art  right.  She  is  Thekla  over 
again,  even  to  the  manner  she  inclines  her  head." 

"'Tis   easily   explained.     She   has   been   with 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  63 

Thekla  a  great  deal  when  thou  wert  not  up  there. 
Thou  rememberest  that  afternoon,  three  years  ago, 
when  thou  and  thy  friends  came  in  from  skating, 
and  she  threw  the  cup  of  coffee  over  Thekla 's 
dress?  Thou  surely  must  remember  it,  since  it 
was  that  very  day  thou  didst  beg  of  me  not  to 
let  thee  see  or  hear  her  any  more?  Thekla  took 
to  her  then,  and  begged  of  me  to  send  her  up  to 
the  castle  whenever  she  could  be  spared.  'T  was 
a  lucky  thing  for  Henriette,  I  assure  thee.  For 
all  she  knows  of  graciousness,  attractiveness,  and 
breeding,  she  owes  to  Thekla." 

"How  much  better  women  are  than  men,"  said 
the  doctor.  He  lifted  his  mother's  hand  to  his 
lips.  "Dear  Thekla,"  he  murmured. 

His  mother's  eyes  sparkled.  "There  is  no  one 
like  her,"  she  said.  "Fritz,"  she  urged,  "before 
thou  goest  away,  ought  not  matters  to  be  settled 
between  you?  She  is  twenty  now;  thou  wilt  be 
gone  some  time  "  — 

"No,  no,"  he  interrupted  hastily;  "'twould  not 
be  at  all  fair  to  her.  I  shall  be  gone  three  or 
four  years  at  least.  Thekla  must  be  left  perfectly 
free.  She  will  have  chosen  some  one  long  before 
I  come  back." 

"Thekla  will  never  marry,"  said  his  mother 
positively;  "had  she  wanted  to  do  so,  she  need 
not  have  waited  till  she  is  twenty.  She  loves 
thee,  Fritz.  She  will  never  marry  any  one  else." 

He  turned  away  impatiently.  His  eyes  w$re 
strained  towards  the  strawberry -bed,  from  which 
sounds  of  gleeful  mirth  and  laughter  came. 


64  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"I  should  think,"  he  said  severely,  "those 
strawberries  ought  to  be  picked  by  this  time.  Are 
we  never  going  to  have  coffee?" 

"I  will  call  Henriette,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin, 
startled  at  his  tone;  "it  shall  be  here  directly." 

"Mamma, "he  said  abruptly,  "why  should  Jett- 
chen  sit  apart,  now  she  is  grown  up?  You  and 
papa  are  used  to  seeing  her  so.  But  from  stran- 
gers it  arouses  comment.  'T  will  surely  not  con- 
taminate her  meats  to  eat  them  at  the  same  table 
with  us." 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  from  that  day  Jette  sat 
apart  no  more. 


CHAPTER  XII 

"AcH  so  hold  und  so  traut,"  sung  Jette,  as  she 
squatted  among  the  beans  and  cabbages,  pulling 
up  weeds  and  exterminating  slugs.  It  had  rained 
the  night  before ;  and  as  it  was  her  duty  to  keep 
the  large  kitchen -gar  den  just  outside  the  village 
outskirts  in  perfect  order,  she  had  put  on  her  sun- 
bonnet  and  started  out  to  investigate.  The  sun 
was  hot,  but  she  worked  on  industriously.  The 
garden  had  been  neglected  of  late ;  she  had  been 
obliged  to  help  Babbett  all  day  long.  The  sudden 
invasion  of  the  quiet  parsonage,  where  everything 
moved  with  clockwork  regularity,  by  two  young 
m^n  effervescing  with  a  superabundance  of  animal 
spirits,  who  played  all  sorts  of  pranks  on  each 
other  and  everybody  else,  was  not  calculated  to 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  65 

speed  any  one  in  his  work.  Of  course  Jette  en- 
joyed it;  every  one  did.  In  another  week  or  two, 
at  most,  they  would  have  to  leave.  Then  all  this 
heavenly  time  would  come  to  an  end.  For  they 
were  golden  days  to  Jette,  —  days  in  which  time 
seemed  to  stand  still  in  one  long,  mirthful  holiday. 
Then  fate  gave  her  all  of  happiness  it  had  to  give. 
It  was  not  stingy  about  it.  With  full,  lavish 
hands  it  crowded  into  her  young  life  all  the  sun- 
shine it  had  ever  known.  In  its  benignant  rays  she 
unfolded  like  a  gorgeous  flower,  so  that  there  was 
no  pain  mixed  with  the  delight  of  beholding  her. 
Jette  was  now  in  her  seventeenth  year,  but  the 
delicious  fragrance  of  innocent  childhood  hovered 
about  her  still.  When  she  raised  her  deep  violet 
eyes,  with  their  veil  of  long,  sweeping  lashes, 
straight  as  truth,  to  one's  face,  the  fearlessness 
which  knows  nothing  of  evil  and  suspects  still  less 
spoke  out  of  them  still.  The  enticing  dew  of  the 
early  morning  was  upon  this  blossom  yet,  and  woe 
to  the  hand  which  sacrilegiously  should  be  lifted 
to  brush  it  hence. 

"Mother  Mary,"  said  the  Magyar  to  his  friend, 
"how  beautiful  she  is!  Codfish!  how  canst  thou 
behold  her  day  after  day,  each  succeeding  one 
more  ravishing  than  the  last,  and  not  lose  thy 
head  completely?  " 

"Thy  father  showed  his  wisdom,"  said  the 
doctor,  "in  tying  both  thy  hands  before  thou 
wentest;  otherwise  Heaven  knows  what  folly  thou 
wouldst  be  capable  of." 

Hans  rumpled  his  lavish  black  curls  in  anger. 


66  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"'Twas  not  wisely  done,"  he  said;  "'twas 
cruel,  tyrannical  in  the  extreme.  My  consent  was 
not  even  asked.  'T  was  all  done  as  a  matter  of 
business." 

"As  all  matters  of  this  kind  are  done,"  said  the 
doctor. 

The  young  baron  stared  at  him  fiercely.  "Wait 
thou,"  he  said;  "I  will  take  my  innings  out  of  thee 
one  day.  'T  will  go  hard  with  thee,  I  tell  thee : 
far  harder  than  with  me.  The  barricades  girding 
thy  cold,  phlegmatic  breast  will  be  stormed  with- 
out warning.  Then  there  will  be  an  earthquake. 
Vesuvius,  with  all  its  hell-fires  let  loose,  will  be 
nothing  to  it.  'T  will  be  grand,  but  it  will  con- 
sume thee  to  ashes." 

"Why  dost  thou  rave  at  me,"  said  the  doctor, 
"because  thou  fanciest  one  maiden,  and  art  be- 
trothed to  another?  Be  easy!  'T  is  an  accident 
which  has  happened  to  thee  more  than  once." 

"I  will  never  survive  this,"  groaned  Hans; 
"this  time,  I  tell  thee,  'tis  serious.  She  haunts 
me,  this  angel  maid,  wherever  I  go.  Waking  or 
sleeping,  I  dream  of  her.  She  is  there  with  her 
eyes  soft  and  velvety  as  the  heart  of  love.  I 
have  no  peace  anywhere." 

"H'm!"  said  the  doctor  attentively,  scanning  his 
face,  which  flushed  and  glowed  with  the  vehemence 
of  his  words,  "thou  hast  the  fever  seriously  this 
time.  Give  me  thy  pulse  to  feel." 

"I  will  strangle  thee,"  said  Hans  savagely,  "if 
thou  mockest  me  into  the  bargain.  I  have  half  a 
mind"  — 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  67 

"As  a  good  Catholic,"  said  the  doctor,  "thou 
oughtest  to  know  that  open  confession  is  good  for 
the  soul.  Go  on.  Unburden  thyself." 

"I  have  half  a  mind  to  run  away  with  her." 

The  doctor  laughed.  "She  would  not  go  with 
thee,"  he  said. 

"She  would  not,  eh?  Not  if  I  told  her  of  my 
passion  and  the  life  that  awaited  her?  " 

"What  life?"  said  the  doctor.  He  wheeled 
round  suddenly.  "Thou  forgettest,"  he  said, 
"that  she  is  a  Jewess.  She  would  no  more  forego 
the  religion  of  her  fathers  than  thou  wouldst  thy 
own.  'T  is  an  abyss,  an  unbridgeable  chasm, 
which,  aside  from  all  other  considerations,  divides 
you.  Speak  no  more  of  such  folly.  'T  is  un- 
worthy of  thy  manhood." 

"What  did  thy  father  mean,"  said  Hans 
moodily,  "in  bringing  her  up  in  such  fashion? 
Some  time  or  other  she  will  have  to  be  settled  in 
life.  What  will  become  of  her  then?  " 

"My  father,"  said  the  doctor,  "believes  in  the 
inalienable  sacredness  of  the  rights  of  the  individ- 
ual. This  girl  was  born  a  Jewess;  she  had  to 
remain  a  Jewess.  'T  was  his  duty  to  see  she  grew 
up  no  half-hearted  one.  As  to  her  future,  thou 
needest  not  puzzle  thyself.  She  will  marry,  as 
most  maidens  do.  Thou  wilt  own  she  will  not 
lack  for  suitors,  dowerless  as  she  is,  if  the  fame  of 
her  beauty  once  gets  abroad.  Only  it  will  have 
to  be  some  one  of  her  own  faith." 

"I  do  not  believe  it,"  said  the  Magyar;  "she 
has  not  grown  up  among  them ;  she  will  feel  out  of 


68  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

place.  Thy  father  may  have  acted  conscientiously 
in  bringing  her  up  as  he  did.  Whether  it  was 
wisely  done  remains  to  be  seen." 

Meanwhile,  Jette  was  pulling  up  weeds,  raking 
and  hoeing  as  if  her  life  depended  on  it.  Her 
dear  garden  was  beginning  to  look  like  itself 
again.  When  the  Frau  Pastorin  came  to  inspect 
it,  or  Babbett  fetched  her  daily  supply  of  vegeta- 
bles, there  would  be  no  scolding  or  fault-finding. 
She  wanted  to  be  back  before  supper,  in  time  to 
change  her  dress,  to  set  the  table,  and  help  Bab- 
bett with  the  dishes.  And  as  she  worked,  she 
sang  one  song  after  the  other,  those  she  had  heard 
the  doctor  and  Herr  von  Czechy  sing,  the  latest 
languishing  love  ballads  of  the  incomparable  Jenny 
Lind,  who  was  then  in  the  zenith  of  her  fame. 
For  in  addition  to  the  lavish  gifts  nature  had 
already  so  bountifully  bestowed  upon  Jette,  she 
possessed  a  glorious  contralto  voice,  magnificent 
chest  notes,  deep  and  vibrating  as  the  full  tones 
of  an  organ;  sweet,  sonorous,  and  pure,  full  of 
a  thrilling  sympathy  which  came  straight  from 
the  heart.  In  the  limited  opportunities  she  had, 
Fraulein  von  Hermersdorff  had  taught  her  how  to 
manage  her  voice,  and  to  accompany  herself  on 
the  guitar.  Added  to  this  she  had  a  quick,  unerr- 
ing ear,  which  enabled  her  to  repeat  accurately 
everything  she  heard.  The  pastor's  eyes  would 
glisten  with  pleasurable  emotion  when  she  went 
about  her  tasks,  yodling  like  a  Tyrolean  till  she 
challenged  the  echoes  from  every  nook  and  cranny 
of  the  quiet  old  place.  Verily  she  was  the  sun- 
shine of  the  house. 


A  TENT  OP  GRACE  69 

As  for  the  fiftieth  time  she  sung,  "Marta, 
Marta  Du  entschwandest,"  she  almost  jumped 
with  surprise,  when  a  clear,  fine  tenor  fell  in  with 
,  the  strain,  mingling  with  the  tones  of  her  voice  as 
if  it  had  found  a  fitting  mate.  In  another  moment 
Hans  von  Czechy  vaulted  over  the  high  paling, 
and  laughingly  lifted  her  to  her  feet. 

"Talk  of  the  angels,"  he  said;  "I  was  just  wish- 
ing with  all  my  heart  and  soul  you  were  out  here 
with  me  under  the  trees,  and  I  had  my  guitar  with 
me.  Then  your  beautiful  voice  rose  upon  the  air. 
'T  was  my  fairy  guide  to  just  where  I  wanted  to 
be.  May  all  my  wishes  in  life  be  as  satisfactorily 
fulfilled." 

She  laughed  in  pure  sympathy  with  his  delighted 
mood.  "'Tis  so  lonely  here,"  she  said,  "one 
could  sing  all  day  long  without  being  heard.  I 
always  sing  when  I  work.  I  don't  know  why,  but 
it  is  so." 

"Song  and  laughter,"  he  said;  "if  I  had  my 
will,  they  should  be  your  life  companions.  Nothing 
rough  should  ever  breathe  upon,  much  less  touch 
you.  Surely  if  any  one  was  destined  for  happi- 
ness, it  is  you." 

She  blushed,  then  said,  "I  thought  you  miles 
away.  Have  you  not  been  up  to  Hermersdorff  ? 
I  fancied  you  and  the  Herr  Doctor  started  hours 
ago  to  see  if  the  young  Fraulein  had  returned 
from  her  visit  to  Silesia." 

"Aha,"  he  said  slyly,  "that 's  my  secret." 

Again  she  had  to  laugh.  His  merriment  was 
so  contagious.  Really  one  could  not  be  angry 


70  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

with  him.  He  sat  down  under  a  large  sycamore  - 
tree,  whose  ample  branches  afforded  a  grateful 
shade  on  the  hottest  day.  He  took  her  hand  and 
made  her  sit  down  beside  him.  A  brook,  widened 
by  last  night's  copious  rains  into  quite  a  little 
stream,  lapped  its  tiny  wavelets  at  their  feet.  The 
scent  of  mignonette,  sweet  lavender,  and  wild 
marjoram  perfumed  the  balmy  air.  High  up  in 
the  sycamore-tree  a  lark  was  bursting  its  little 
throat  with  its  pa3an  of  praise.  The  soft  summer 
breeze  lifted  the  thick,  luxurious  curls  from  the 
Magyar's  brow.  His  dark  face  kindled,  as  with 
distended  chest  he  drew  his  breath  in  deep,  de- 
lighted draughts.  His  eyes  roved  over  the  undu- 
lating valley,  where  in  the  far  distance  the  blue 
Ehine  beckoned  like  a  beacon  of  hope. 

"What  a  quaint  place  this  is,"  he  said,  "tucked 
snugly  away  among  these  hills  like  a  child  in  its 
cot.  One  could  almost  fancy  the  footprints  of 
time  had  never  strayed  here ;  that  it  was  always 
so,  and  always  will  be,  —  an  Eden,  where  no  hate- 
ful strife  or  contending  passions  ever  can  come." 

Jette  thought  of  the  time  when,  in  the  road 
just  outside  of  the  garden  inclosure,  she  was  all 
but  beaten  to  death.  The  recollection  made  her 
shudder,  as  it  always  did.  It  was  thus  it  con- 
tinually obtruded  itself  in  her  happiest  moments. 

"There  are  human  beings  here,"  she  said,  "and 
wherever  they  are,  there  is  human  nature." 

Hans  peered  under  her  sunbonnet.  "  Take  that 
disfiguring  thing  off,"  he  commanded.  "What 
horrible  aged  sarcasm  out  of  such  a  young,  lovely 
mouth!" 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  71 

Meekly  she  took  off  her  bonnet.  Somewhat 
troubled  she  seemed  that  her  words  should  have 
made  such  an  impression  on  him.  She  had  said 
them  in  all  innocence  just  as  she  thought.  In 
her  confusion  she  stooped  to  pick  up  a  pebble  at 
her  feet.  Her  book  fell  out  of  her  pocket,  her 
beloved  Schiller,  without  which  she  never  rose  or 
went  to  bed.  His  attentive  eyes  saw  it.  He 
hastily  forestalled  her  in  picking  it  up.  Feeling 
herself  very  guilty,  she  tried  to  seize  the  much- 
bethumbed  treasure,  but  Hans  retained  firm  hold 
of  it. 

"Is  it  from  this,"  he  said,  "you  imbibe  such 
ideas  ?  Ah,  but  then  it  shall  quickly  be  destroyed." 

"Give  it  me  back,"  she  implored;  "the  Frau 
Pastorin  would  be  so  angry  if  she  knew." 

"Schiller's  poems,"  he  ejaculated,  in  astonish- 
ment. "There  is  no  harm  here.  Why  should  the 
Frau  Pastorin  be  angry?" 

"She  might  think  I  was  wasting  my  time,"  said 
the  girl,  very  much  relieved.  "When  I  stoop 
down  to  do  much  weeding,  my  limbs  get  very 
cramped.  Sometimes  I  take  a  little  rest  here 
under  this  tree.  There  is  no  harm  in  reading  a 
little  then,  is  there?" 

She  said  it  half  timidly,  half  coaxingly,  as  if 
afraid  he  might  disagree  with  her.  It  moved  him 
so  strongly,  he  could  hardly  refrain  from  kissing 
the  mouth  which  knew  how  to  plead  so  sweetly. 

"There  is  no  harm  in  your  reading  while  you 
rest,"  he  said  quite  seriously;  "why  should  the 
Frau  Pastorin  object?" 


72  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  She  might  think  I  ought  to  have  my  knitting 
in  my  pocket  instead  of  my  book,  and  so  I  could, 
of  course.  But  then  my  fingers  are  too  stiff  to 
hold  the  needles  after  weeding  so  long." 

How  sordid  it  all  seemed.  How  he  longed  to 
take  her  in  his  arms,  kiss  her,  and  love  her,  as 
mother  nature  had  so  evidently  intended  she 
should  be  kissed  and  loved,  —  this,  her  pet  child. 
The  melancholy  which  always  shared  the  delight 
he  had  in  looking  at  her  overcame  him  now,  when 
he  reflected  that  this  humdrum,  obscure  life  might 
be  her  portion,  —  married  to  some  horrible  under- 
bred fellow,  who  saw  in  her  only  a  desirable,  good- 
wearing  housekeeper.  What  would  his  father  say 
if  he  returned  to  his  distant  Hungarian  home  with 
this  beautiful,  sweet  young  creature  hanging  on 
his  arm.  His  hot  Magyar  blood  rushed  to  his 
head;  involuntarily  his  arm  stole  towards  her. 
She  was  humming  a  plaintive  little  tune,  lacing 
and  interlacing  her  fingers  in  perfect  contentment 
of  mind. 

"What  is  that  you  are  singing?"  he  asked. 
He  did  not  expect  an  answer.  He  wanted  to  hear 
the  sound  of  his  own  voice. 

"'Tis  a  little  Jewish  hymn,"  she  said.  "Is  it 
not  quaint  and  grand?  It  is  only  sung  on  the 
high  holidays  that  come  once  a  year." 

His  madness  was  over.  He,  the  Catholic,  she, 
the  Jewess  —  't  was  an  abyss  he  was  about  to  hurl 
himself  into.  And  yet  —  the  pity  of  it.  Invol- 
untarily he  took  her  hand,  and  smoothed  and  patted 
it  as  if  he  wanted  to  console  her. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  73 

"Nay,"  he  said,  "did  I  ever  see  such  a  beauti- 
ful hand !  so  slim  and  perfectly  formed,  the  fingers 
arched  and  tapering  at  the  top,  nails  rosy  as 
cupid's  bow  and  shaped  like  the  heart  .of  a  hind. 
'T  is  the  hand  of  a  goddess.  'T  is  the  most  beau- 
tiful hand  in  the  world.  Why  do  you  not  wear 
gloves  to  protect  them  ?  See ;  they  are  all  burnt 
red  from  the  sun." 

She  looked  at  her  hands  in  astonishment,  not 
unmixed  with  gratified  vanity.  No  one  had  ever 
told  her  they  were  beautiful.  Hands  were  made 
to  work  with,  and  not  to  spare  themselves  at  that. 

" Gloves  to  work  in!"  she  said;  "I  have  none 
to  spare  for  that." 

"You  shall  have  all  mine,"  he  said.  "They 
will  be  just  the  right  thing.  It  is  quite  what  you 
want.  Long  and  loose,  to  move  your  hands  in 
freely." 

"No,  no,"  she  said,  "I  could  not  think  of  that. 
But  if  you  have  any  old  ones  —  those  that  are  past 
darning,  I  shall  be  glad  "  — 

"I  have  heaps  of  them,"  he  said.  He  was  fib- 
bing, but  it  was  no  sin  to  impose  on  her  childish 
credulity.  He  had  a  whole  box  full  he  had  never 
used.  The  doctor  was  also  well  provided,  he 
knew.  He  inly  resolved  to  make  a  raid  on  them. 
He  would  not  spare  him  one  pair.  She  should 
have  every  one  of  them.  It  gave  him  unalloyed 
pleasure  that  even  in  so  trivial  a  matter  he  could 
provide  for  her.  He  kissed  the  hands  he  had 
praised,  and  put  the  rosy  finger-tips  into  his 
mouth. 


74  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"Which  finger  do  you  like  best?  "  he  asked. 

"This  one,"  she  said,  indicating  the  third  finger 
of  the  left  hand. 

For  a  moment  he  was  staggered.  Was  she, 
after  all,  a  consummate  coquette?  But  her  hand 
lay  within  his  quite  passive.  Her  blue  eyes  looked 
at  him  seriously. 

"Why?"  he  asked. 

"Because  my  mother  used  to  put  my  fingers 
into  her  mouth,  as  you  did  just  now.  No  one 
has  ever  done  so.  I  had  quite  forgotten  it  till 
you  reminded  me.  This  finger  she  would  always 
pretend  to  bite,  and  laugh  at  my  terror." 

"Is  that  the  only  reason?  " 

"Surely,  yes.     How  could  there  be  any  other?  " 

She  did  not  know,  then,  that  it  really  was  the 
ring  finger.  He  had  great  ado  to  restrain  himself 
from  kissing  her,  he  was  so  charmed  with  her 
simplicity. 

"See  here,"  he  said,  drawing  a  wide,  flat  hoop 
of  dull  black  from  his  little  finger;  "this  circlet, 
unpretentious  as  it  is,  bears  invaluable  recollec- 
tions for  me.  With  it  are  entwined  the  dearest, 
sweetest  memories  of  my  youth  and  childhood. 
'T  is  an  antique  which  has  been  in  my  family  for 
generations,  and  has  descended  from  father  to  son. 
Will  you  wear  it  on  this  finger,  —  this  one  you 
like  the  best,  —  and  sometimes  think  of  me  when  I 
am  far  away?" 

"It  does  not  require  any  reminder,"  she  said, 
smiling  through  her  gathering  tears,  "to  make  me 
do  that.  But  I  will  wear  it  gladly,  as  something 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  75 

treasured  by  yourself;  and  I  will  never  part  with 
it  as  long  as  I  live." 

It  really  was  so  small  and  looked  so  insignifi- 
cant, with  the  funny  hieroglyphics  engraved  all 
over  it,  she  had  no  hesitation  about  accepting  it. 
Yet  when  he  placed  it  on  her  finger,  it  showed  in 
sharp  contrast  against  her  white  hand.  She  fell 
to  admiring  it  immensely,  and  turned  it  round  and 
round. 

"'T  is  the  first  ring  I  have  ever  had,"  she  said. 
"I  had  no  idea  it  would  look  so  pretty." 

"I  will  return,"  he  said,  strongly  moved,  "and 
replace  it  with  another."  Then  he  thought  of  the 
Countess  Irma,  and  gave  a  great  gulp. 

The  girl  beside  him  felt  her  heart  thump  like 
a  sledge-hammer.  She  jumped  up,  startled  and 
confused. 

"  Heavens !  It  is  time  to  go  home,  and  my  gar- 
den is  not  half  finished.  I  shall  be  finely  scolded." 

"That  you  never  shall  be.  Come,  I  will  help 
you.  In  two  minutes  all  will  be  done." 

Laughing  like  children,  they  began  such  a  fierce 
onslaught  on  the  weeds  that  in  a  very  short  time 
hardly  one  remained.  Then  Hans,  who  had 
stripped  off  his  coat,  got  the  rake,  and  made  a 
neat  pile  of  them,  and  threw  them  into  the  wheel- 
barrow, ready  to  be  carted  away.  He  enlivened 
his  work  with  so  many  droll  sallies  that  Jette's 
laughter  rang  out  incessantly,  to  which  the  song 
of  the  birds  lent  a  joyous  accompaniment. 

"You  have  not  yet  told  me,"  she  said,  "how 
you  came  here." 


76  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"I  gave  the  Herr  Doctor  the  slip.  While  he 
was  toiling  up  the  mountain  to  Hermersdorff, 
imagining  me  trudging  behind  him,  I  dodged 
through  the  woods  and  came  here.  Bah!  'T is  his 
business  to  find  out  whether  the  Fraulein  has 
returned.  He  is  more  interested  in  her  than 
I  am." 

"Do  you  think,"  said  Jette  quite  anxiously, 
"that  Fraulein  Thekla  likes  him?  " 

"Likes  him?"  he  repeated.  "Dear  child,  as 
many  separate  hairs  as  the  doctor  grows  on  his 
mossy  scalp,  so  many  separate  times  does  Fraulein 
von  Hermersdorff  worship  him,  each  time  more 
fervently  than  the  other." 

Jette  drew  a  deep  breath.  "I  am  sure  he  must 
be  very  fond  of  her  also,"  she  said,  as  if  half  to 
herself. 

"The  doctor!  Oh,  he's  a  codfish!  I  fancy 
he  likes  her  well  enough  according  to  his  fashion. 
If  nothing  else,  his  vanity  must  be  touched,  as 
any  man's  is  bound  to  be,  when  a  pretty  woman 
shows  undisguisedly  how  she  adores  him." 

"He  is  a  very  disagreeable,  repellant  man," 
said  Jette  severely,  "and  not  at  all  worthy  to  be 
loved  by  such  a  lovely  young  lady  as  Fraulein  von 
Hermersdorff.  I  am  sorry  she  could  not  bestow 
her  affection  on  some  one  more  amiable  than  he." 

"What  a  severe  arraignment!"  said  Hans,  not 
ill  pleased  she  should  be  so  hard  upon  his  friend; 
"so  you  do  not  like  the  doctor?  " 

She  threw  up  her  lips  disdainfully. 

"Oh,"  she  said  indifferently,  "I  dare  say  he  is 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  77 

quite  attractive  to  some  people.  I  hope  lie  will 
stay  away  so  long  I  shall  have  forgotten  all  about 
him.  I  never  want  to  meet  again  any  one  I  dis- 
like half  as  much." 

She  picked  up  her  basket  and  her  sunbonnet. 
"Now,"  she  said,  "you  see  that  cherry-tree  yonder, 
in  the  orchard?  No,  not  that  one,  but  the  one  a 
little  to  the  left,  loaded  down  with  the  big  oxheart 
cherries?  You  may  climb  it  and  fill  my  basket. 
Then  we  will  go  home." 

"Where  is  my  coat?"  said  Hans,  looking 
around.  They  both  looked  and  searched,  but  no 
coat  was  to  be  seen. 

"Never  mind,"  said  Hans,  laughing;  "we  will 
return  like  those  ideal  harvesters  one  sees  in  pic- 
tures, —  you  in  your  sunbonnet,  carrying  the 
cherries,  and  I  in  my  shirt-sleeves,  with  the  rake 
over  my  shoulder." 

Jette,  who  was  greatly  distressed,  and  could 
not  account  for  the  loss  of  the  coat,  still  spied 
earnestly  around.  Then  she  gave  a  little  cry. 
"Look,"  she  said,  pointing  towards  the  orchard. 

There  dangled  the  coat,  suspended  from  the 
topmost  branch  of  the  cherry-tree. 

"Who  has  done  this?"  exclaimed  the  young 
Baron  von  Czechy. 

Then  they  both  ran  towards  the  tree,  and  there 
sat  the  doctor,  high  up  near  the  coat,  grinning 
down  upon  them  through  the  ripe  fruit  and  green 
leaves. 

"What  do  you  think  of  my  scarecrow?"  he 
said. 


78  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"So  it  was  thou,  thou  rascal?"  cried  Hans, 
laughing;  "throw  me  down  my  coat,  please." 

"Thou  wilt  have  to  ransom  it  first,"  said  the 
doctor. 

"  Willingly.     What  dost  thou  claim  ?  " 

"That  Jettchen  shall  climb  up  and  get  it." 

"I  certainly  will,  with  pleasure,"  she  cried, 
turning  rosy  red. 

"  Fraulein  Jettchen,  you !  Never  will  I  permit 
it.  Surely  you  cannot  climb  that  tree,"  cried 
Hans  angrily;  "let  the  coat  stay  where  it  is." 

"If  thou  hadst  seen,"  said  the  doctor,  "what 
I  saw  the  other  day,  thou  wouldst  not  be  quite 
so  alarmed.  H'm !  It  lent  an  extra  zest  to  the 
cherries,  I  assure  thee." 

"Stand  off,  Herr  von  Czechy,"  said  Jette.  "I 
will  get  your  coat."  She  put  her  foot  on  the  tree, 
and  swung  herself  up  with  an  ease  and  agility 
which  scarcely  caused  a  flutter  of  her  petticoats. 
Hans  saw  her  face  glowing  among  the  leaves,  then 
his  coat  alighted  at  his  feet. 

"Well  done,"  said  the  doctor;  "now  downward, 
march!" 

"Herr  Doctor,"  said  Jette,  "the  limb  is  giving 
way.  It  is  not  strong  enough  to  hold  us  both." 

"I  am  waiting  for  you  to  go  down,"  said  the 
doctor. 

"Then  we  shall  both  break  our  necks,"  she 
said.  She  held  on  to  the  topmost  branch.  Her 
body  swayed  to  and  fro.  She  met  the  doctor's 
eyes  coldly. 

"Will  you  go  down!  "  he  commanded  sternly. 


t 

A  TENT  OF  GRACE  79 

"I  will  fling  myself  down,"  she  said.  "Your 
parents  shall  not  see  you  crippled,  perhaps  killed, 
on  my  account." 

"Stop!  "  he  cried.  He  slid  down  as  if  whipped 
by  the  Furies.  Prone  upon  his  face  he  fell,  pull- 
ing his  friend  down  with  him. 

It  seemed  an  eternity  before  they  heard  her 
laughing  voice  close  beside  them.  "Now  we  will 
go  home." 

"Maria!  "  said  Hans;  "what  a  fright  you  gave 
us!  Are  you  really  unhurt?  " 

The  doctor  walked  up  to  the  tree.  The  limb 
on  which  she  had  stood  lay  upon  the  ground.  It 
was  snapped  in  two. 

"I  must  fill  my  basket,"  she  said. 

"Come  away,"  said  Hans,  with  a  shudder. 
"When  I  think  of  your  narrow  escape,  I  shall 
never  be  able  to  bear  the  sight  of  cherries  again." 

He  took  her  empty  basket,  and  turned  to  go. 
The  doctor  lingered  a  moment  behind.  He  hastily 
broke  off  a  small  twig  of  the  broken  branch,  and 
slipped  it  into  his  pocket. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

WHEN  .  Hans  von  Czechy  threw  open  his  case- 
ment early  the  next  morning,  he  heard  Minka 
purring  on  the  path  below.  Wherever  Minka  was, 
Jette  was  never  far  off.  He  hurriedly  splashed 
the  cold  water  over  himself,  dressed,  and  went 
down  to  join  her.  Jette  had  charge  of  the  poultry 


80  A  TENT  OF  GRACE* 

yard,  and  she  was  there,  feeding  her  feathered 
friends.  The  chickens  surrounded  her,  squabbling 
and  fighting  for  the  biggest  share,  just  as  if  they 
were  human.  She  held  a  little  switch  in  her  hand 
to  drive  back  a  big,  quarrelsome  old  gobbler. 

"Now,  Patriarch,"  she  said,"  make  way  for  the 
rest  of  thy  tribe.  Thou  hast  gobbled  enough  for 
six.  Thy  crop  is  so  full  thou  art  fit  to  choke. 
Still  thou  art  not  satisfied.  There  thou  stemmest 
thy  broad  shoulders  and  plumest  thyself,  till  none 
can  approach  within  an  ell  of  thee.  Greedy, 
thou !  Thou  canst  do  no  more  than  satisfy  thyself. 
Back  —  back,  I  tell  thee !  Approach,  my  children, 
approach!  do  not  be  afraid  of  him.  There  is  a 
mightier  power  than  he,  which  will  see  that  you  get 
your  rightful  share.  For  shame,  Patriarch !  thou 
posest  as  a  philanthropist,  and  wouldst  devour  the 
whole." 

She  put  some  corn  between  her  lips.  At  this, 
as  at  a  signal,  a  swarm  of  pigeons  fluttered  down 
upon  her.  Wherever  they  could  find  a  place  they 
perched.  Upon  her  head,  her  arms,  her  shoul- 
ders, all  bending  eagerly  downward,  and  up,  to 
take  the  food  from  her  lips.  They  swarmed  over 
Minka,  who  sat  immovable,  and  let  them  ferret 
out  some  stray  grains  which  were  scattered  among 
her  fur.  The  big  tabby  seemed  to  enjoy  it  im- 
mensely. She  blinked  her  eyes,  and  purred  as 
benevolently  as  if  she  and  the  pigeons  were  of  the 
same  family.  Suddenly  she  gave  a  great  bound, 
which  scattered  them  right  and  left.  A  great 
black  cat,  with  gleaming  green  eyes,  had  slunk 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  81 

near,  stealthy  as  a  fox.  In  a  moment  Minka  was 
upon  her.  Then  there  arose  an  uproar  of  snarls 
and  hisses,  a  digging  of  claws,  which  made  even 
the  Patriarch  forget  his  greed  and  his  dignity, 
and  with  the  rest  of  his  tribe  beat  a  safe  retreat. 
Like  all  fierce  encounters,  it  was  short  and  deci- 
sive. A  great  deal  of  fur  was  left  on  the  ground; 
but  it  was  not  Minka' s.  She  returned  to  her 
former  place,  blinking  her  eyes  as  if  nothing  had 
happened,  licking  her  fore-paws  with  a  great  look 
of  disgust.  She  wanted  to  purge  herself  from  the 
unclean  attack  of  the  enemy.  The  chickens  re- 
turned, the  pigeons  came  back.  All  was  as  it  had 
been  before. 

"That  was  Gret's  cat,"  said  Jette  to  Hans,  who 
had  enjoyed  the  encounter  hugely.  "She  comes 
here  every  day,  trying  to  kill  our  pigeons.  Nasty 
creature!  See  how  she  goes  limping  over  that 
fence.  She  can  hardly  drag  herself  along.  I 
should  think  she  would  stay  away,  when  she  knows 
she  gets  so  unmercifully  mauled  each  time.  But 
she  always  comes  back.  Some  day  our  Minka 
will  kill  her." 

"Does  she  treat  all  interlopers  that  way?" 
asked  Hans. 

"Oh,  no.  The  others  never  attempt  to  inter- 
fere with  Minka.  They  have  a  great  respect  for 
her.  They  know  how  strong  and  vigilant  she  is. 
But  this  nasty  creature  will  not  keep  away.  She 
is  as  spiteful  as  her  mistress.  Do  you  know,  I 
think  that  animals  partake  of  the  characteristics 
of  their  owners  ?  Again  and  again  she  will  return 


82  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

to  the  attack.  She  is  as  pertinacious  as  she  is 
vicious.  Then,  too,  she  is  a  born  thief.  She  is 
always  prowling  around  our  meat  safe.  One  day 
she  will  get  her  proper  deserts.  Then  both  Minka 
and  I  will  be  glad." 

She  stroked  and  kissed  her  favorite  pigeons, 
cooed  to  them,  reassuringly  scattered  another 
handful  of  grain,  and  leaving  Minka  in  charge, 
went  to  cut  some  roses  for  the  breakfast-table. 
Hans  walked  beside  her,  singing  the  Kossuth 
March.  He  carried  his  stick  like  a  baton,  with 
which  he  beat  time  with  fiery  energy.  His  shoul- 
ders swayed  gracefully  in  even  rhythm.  Every- 
thing Hans  did  was  done  with  the  lightness  and 
ease  which  comes  from  early  and  constant  associa- 
tion with  high-bred  people.  He  was  so  happy  this 
radiant  morning,  he  might  have  known  Fate  had 
a  rod  in  pickle  for  him.  The  wicked  rascal,  with 
a  great  show  of  assisting  her,  ran  innumerable 
thorns  into  his  fingers,  which,  of  course,  she  had  to 
pull  out.  He  paraded  his  sufferings  with  so  much 
ludicrousness  while  she  prodded  the  needle  into 
his  flesh  that,  convulsed  with  laughter,  she  made 
him  scream  out  more  than  once  in  real  earnest. 
Meantime,  he  looked  into  her  eyes  far  oftener 
than  was  just  to  the  Countess  Irma,  whose  future 
happiness  came  very  near  trembling  in  the  balance. 
Then  the  measured  tones  of  the  doctor's  voice  fell 
upon  their  ears. 

"There  are  letters  awaiting  thee,  Hans,"  he 
said,  —  "  important  documents  from  home.  The 
carrier  has  just  brought  them  from  thy  bankers  at 
Cologne." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  83 

The  Magyar's  swarthy  face  flushed  darkly. 
"Cannot  I  be  left  one  minute  alone!  "  he  said  pet- 
tishly. He  glared  at  his  friend  as  if  he  would 
gladly  annihilate  him,  and,  bowing  to  Jette,  strode 
towards  the  house. 

She  had  picked  up  her  scissors,  and  bent  her 
blushing  face  assiduously  over  the  roses.  With 
all  her  heart  and  soul  she  was  wishing  that  hor- 
rible doctor  would  go.  But  no.  He  remained. 
And  she  knew  that  he  was  looking  at  her.  What 
made  him  stay?  Was  he  going  to  reprimand  her 
for  wasting  her  time  ? 

44  Jettchen,"  he  said. 

She  started  in  sheer  surprise.  •  Like  his  father, 
he  always  called  her  Jettchen.  But  he  did  not 
use  the  familiar  "thou,"  as  the  rest  of  the  family 
did.  He  had  always  been  distant  and  formal, 
scrupulously  polite,  as  he  might  have  been  to  an 
outside  acquaintance.  Now  there  was  a  tone  in 
his  voice  which  came  straight  from  the  heart.  She 
stared  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"See  here,"  he  said,  drawing  a  small  volume 
from  his  pocket;  "I  took  this  just  now  from  the 
kitchen  table  when  I  went  to  look  for  you.  Bab- 
bett  said  she  had  found  it  under  your  pillow.  Do 
you  think  my  mother  would  be  pleased  to  find  you 
reading  Heine  ?  " 

It  was  worse  than  she  thought.  That  treacher- 
ous Babbett !  Wait !  She  should  be  paid  out  for 
this. 

She  looked  at  him  with  frightened  eyes.  "I 
have  read  worse  books  than  that,"  she  stammered 
confusedly. 


84  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"Oh,  indeed!  Does  my  mother  know  that 
also?" 

"You  have  not  told  the  FrauPastorin? "  she 
said,  in  agony. 

"Make  yourself  easy.  I  am  not  a  tale-bearing 
schoolboy."  She  looked  at  him  gratefully.  "No. 
Perhaps  I  'm  not  quite  as  bad  as  you  think.  I 
have  not  told  her  —  yet." 

At  the  emphasis  he  put  upon  the  last  word,  she 
started  again  in  alarm.  She  folded  her  hands  like 
a  child  beseeching  pardon. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  she  said;  "please  do  not 
tell  her.  I  will  do  anything  in  the  world  for  you, 
if  you  will  not."  She  saw  his  eyes  twinkle  and 
the  corners  of  his  mouth  twitch  under  his  long, 
blonde  mustache.  "I  don't  care  if  you  do,"  she 
burst  out  inconsequently. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  do,"  he  said;  "you  do  care  a 
great  deal.  You  are  frightened  to  death.  I  can 
just  tell  to  a  beat  how  rapidly  your  pulses  are  gal- 
loping. Your  heart  is  frozen  with  terror.  You 
are  agonized  to  think  that  all  your  charming  con- 
traband reading  will  come  to  an  end.  And  the 
lecture  you  will  get.  Brrr!  Mammachen  can 
lecture,  you  know,  when  she  is  wound  up  for  it." 

The  spiteful  creature !  There  he  stood  with  his 
six-foot  odd  inches,  shoulders  like  an  athlete,  and 
chest  like  a  Greek  god,  and  mocked  her  with  his 
aggravating  brown  eyes!  He  dwindled  to  the 
most  contemptible  proportions  in  her  estimation. 

"That  is  true,"  she  said,  shivering.  "My 
Heaven!"  she  cried,  bouncing  round  so  furiously 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  85 

he  involuntarily  took  a  step  backward,  "what  do 
you  want  of  me,  then?" 

"Tell  me  what  you  have  read  of  Heine,"  he 
said,  with  sparkling  eyes,  "and  I  won't  tell." 

"I  won't,"  she  said,  pouting  her  lips.  It  was 
a  trick  she  had,  and  a  dangerously  enticing  one. 
She  opened  her  eyes  very  wide.  "I  have  read  him 
all,"  she  said,  with  great  complacency. 

He  laughed  till  the  hills  reechoed.  "Buy  my 
silence,"  he  said.  His  fair  face  bent  very  near 
her  own.  She  could  feel  his  breath  caressing  her 
neck.  With  a  gesture  of  repugnance  she  drew 
back.  He  flushed  vividly. 

"  Give  me  one  of  those  rosebuds,"  he  said.  "No, 
not  that  one,  this  one  just  opening  its  first  shy 
leaves  to  the  kisses  of  the  sun." 

"You  are  easily  satisfied,"  she  said  gayly;  "of 
course  you  shall  have  it." 

"Put  it  to  your  lips,"  he  said. 

"And  brush  the  dew  off?  No,  no,  'twere  a 
sin  to  do  that.  Here,  take  it  —  take  it  —  with  all 
its  native  fragrance  moist  upon  it." 

The  doctor  took  it  silently.  He  looked  at  the 
rosebud.  He  looked  at  her. 

"Here  is  your  book,"  he  said. 

She  took  it  gladly,  and  hid  it  under  the  roses  in 
her  basket.  Then  they  both  went  in  to  breakfast. 
The  doctor's  rosebud  had  disappeared. 


86  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 


CHAPTER  XIV 

BABBETT  had  just  placed  the  silver  coffee  ser- 
vice upon  the  table.  But  no  one  paid  any  atten- 
tion to  it.  A  lively  discussion  was  going  on  be- 
tween the  Herr  Pastor,  the  Frau  Pastorin,  and 
Hans  von  Czechy.  The  young  baron's  face  was 
flushed.  He  was  walking  up  and  down,  in  strong 
agitation,  rumpling  his  black  curls  as  he  went. 

"'Tis  all  over,"  he  said  forlornly,  when  his 
friend  came  in;  "brother -heart,  we  have  to  pack 
up  and  be  going." 

"Is  that  why  you  are  all  so  wrought  up?" 
inquired  the  doctor. 

"Fritz,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin,  "how  canst 
thou  talk  with  so  much  levity  ?  Is  it  not  enough 
to  wring  our  hearts  to  see  thee  and  thy  friend  go 
hence  ?  But  that  is  not  what  we  are  discussing. 
There  is  a  large  sum  of  money  awaiting  the  Herr 
Baron's  disposal  at  his  banker's  at  Cologne.  How 
is  he  to  get  it?  " 

"Fetch  it,"  said  the  doctor  laconically. 

"Thou  forgettest,  my  son,"  said  his  father, 
"that  you  are  both  secluded  here.  'T  will  never 
do  to  show  yourselves  in  your  accustomed  haunts. 
'T  is  just  as  well  this  urgent  summons  has  come  to 
the  Herr  Baron.  Freiherr  von  Czechy,  his  father, 
is  alarmed,  and  justly  so.  You  are  both  of  you 
far  safer  away  for  the  present.  But  the  Herr 
Baron  needs  the  money  for  his  journey.  Some 
accredited  person  must  go  and  fetch  it. " 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  87 

"Papa  cannot  go,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin;  "it 
would  arouse  comment.  Equally  so  if  I  went. 
Yet  it  must  be  some  one  perfectly  reliable.  Now 
who  is  there  whom  we  can  trust  with  this  delicate 
mission?  " 

Jette,  who  had  arranged  her  bouquet  on  the 
table,  said  timidly,  — 

"I  will  go." 

"Thou,  Henriette!"  exclaimed  the  Frau  Pas- 
torin. 

"You,  Fraulein  Jettchen!  "  repeated  Hans. 

"You,  Jettchen!  "  echoed  the  doctor. 

They  all  stared  at  her,  as  at  some  new  revela- 
tion. The  pastor  said  nothing,  but  passed  his 
thin,  white  hand  over  his  slightly  bald  crown. 

She  blushed  furiously,  but  said  with  courage, 
"I  will  go,  if  you  think  I  can  do  it." 

"But,  child,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin,  "thou 
hast  never  been  away  from  home.  How  wilt  thou 
find  thy  way  alone  in  a  strange  city?" 

"I  will  never  allow  it,"  said  Hans. 

"  'T  is  not  to  be  thought  of,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  'T  is  an  errand  which  requires  a  great  deal  of 
circumspection  and  secrecy,"  said  the  pastor;  "one; 
careless  word  might  lead  to  discovery  and  ruin. 
'Twill  be  necessary  to  depart  with  the  greatest 
caution,  and  to  come  back  the  same  way.  Thou 
canst  talk  freely  enough  to  Herr  Goldman,  the 
banker,  for  he  knows  everything.  But  to  any 
outsider  t  would  be  productive  of  the  greatest 
danger.  Added  to  this,  thou  wilt  have  to  spend 
the  night  alone  among  strange  surroundings. 
Dost  think  thou  canst  do  this?  " 


88  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"Yes,"  she  said,  with  sparkling  eyes;  "and 
keep  my  own  counsel  besides.  I  am  not  afraid. 
I  will  do  it  gladly." 

"I  think  thou  wilt,"  said  the  pastor  kindly; 
"thou  needest  not  spend  the  night  among  stran- 
gers. I  will  give  thee  the  address  of  an  old  friend, 
who  will  take  good  care  of  thee.  Only,  not  a 
word  to  any  one." 

But  Hans  and  the  doctor  broke  into  a  torrent 
of  protests.  'T  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  No, 
no !  She  was  far  too  young  to  send  on  such  an 
errand  alone.  What!  were  they,  men,  to  sit  at 
home,  and  let  a  young  and  lovely  girl  —  Here  the 
Frau  Pas  tor  in  signed  Jette  to  leave  the  room. 

"A  young  and  lovely  girl,"  exploded  Hans, 
"beautiful  enough  to  attract  the  eye  of  the  most 
casual  observer,  to  run  Heaven  knows  into  what 
danger!  No,  no!  Sooner  than  that, Jet  matters 
take  their  course." 

"Herr  Baron,"  said  the  pastor  calmly,  "Jett- 
chen  is  a  child,  —  courageous  and  guileless  as  one. 
She  has  the  wit  and  circumspection  of  a  woman. 
There  is  no  one  I  would  sooner  trust." 

So,  then,  it  was  settled.  Jette  was  called  in  to 
breakfast,  and  the  matter  fully  arranged.  She 
was  to  meet  the  mail  coach  a  mile  or  two  from 
the  village,  and  so  go  on  to  Cologne,  which  she 
would  reach  early  in  the  evening.  She  was  to 
proceed  direct  to  the  house  of  the  pastor's  friend, 
and  after  spending  the  night  there,  visit  the  bank- 
ing-house of  Goldman  &  Son  early  the  following 
morning.  Then,  having  transacted  her  business, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  89 

she  was  to  return  the  next  day  by  the  regular 
coach.  The  most  minute  instructions  were  given 
her  about  the  care  of  the  money  and  her  creden- 
tials. 

"Thou  wilt  take  care  of  thyself,  Liebchen," 
whispered  Hans  tenderly,  when  she  was  ready  to 
depart. 

"Of  course,"  she  laughed;  "no  one  will  eat 
me."  She  went,  full  of  happy  exuberance  of 
spirits. 


CHAPTER  XV 

IN  the  early  fifties,  the  house  of  Goldman  & 
Son  stood  high  among  the  foremost  and  most 
powerful  banking-houses  in  Europe.  The  shabby, 
old-fashioned  brick  pile  in  the  Hochstrasse  seemed 
to  shake  hands  with  its  neighbor  across  the  nar- 
row, dirty  street.  There  was  an  air  of  mysterious 
importance  about  this  musty  pile,  where  the  des- 
tinies of  many  powerful  personages  were  arranged 
as  on  a  chess-board.  It  struck  a  chill  to  the  heart 
of  the  little  country  girl  as  she  mounted  the  steps, 
worn  with  innumerable  footprints  of  time.  Her 
courage  almost  failed  her  when  she  entered  the 
large  square  counting-room,  where  several  clerks 
bent  over  their  desks,  too  busy  to  see  who  entered. 
Her  voice  stuck  in  her  throat,  as  for  the  second 
time  she  repeated  her  request  to  see  Herr  Gold- 
man. A  small,  dark  man,  with  a  shaven  lip  and 
strongly  marked  aquiline  features,  looked  up.  He 


90  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

stared  at  her  in  a  manner  which  was  not  calcu- 
lated to  restore  her  confidence. 

"Herr  Goldman?  Which  one?  The  elder 
Herr  Goldman  or  the  younger?" 

Her  confusion  increased.  She  did  not  know, 
she  said  desperately.  She  wanted  to  see  the  Herr 
Banquier. 

Ah,  indeed!  Well,  then,  she  must  state  her 
errand.  It  was  not  usual  for  either  of  the  bankers 
to  see  strangers  unless  they  sent  in  their  name, 
and  distinctly  stated  their  business. 

By  this  time  at  least  twelve  pairs  of  eyes  were 
focused  on  her,  as  if  she  were  a  camera,  and  they 
all  had  to  stare  unblinkingly  to  get  photographed. 
Twelve  pairs  of  eyes,  all  young,  all  dark,  and 
brimming  over  with  mischief  and  self-assurance. 

"It  must  be  Herr  Julius  Goldman  the  young 
Fraulein  wishes  to  see,"  said  one  young  clerk, 
with  a  discreet  smile.  "Doubtless  the  Fraulein 
is  a  relative?" 

Brilliant  idea!  Of  course!  What  a  splendid 
fellow!  She  could  have  hugged  him  for  it.  She 
wondered  why  he  winked  at  the  rest,  and  why 
those  twelve  dark,  aquiline-featured  countenances 
should  simultaneously  blossom  out  into  exactly 
the  same  length  and  breadth  of  a  grin. 

"To  be  sure,"  she  said  eagerly;  "yes,  indeed. 
A  relative,  of  course."  She  could  have  laughed 
in  the  excess  of  her  relief. 

"Some  one  whom  he  has  not  seen  for  a  long 
time?"  asked  the  same  young  man. 

She     nodded    vivaciously.     The    young    imps 


A  TENT  OF    GRACE  91 

:. 

looked  at  each  other,  and  again  that  grin  popped 
out,  —  if  possible,  broader  than  before. 

"I  beg  you  will  be  seated,  honored  Fraulein. 
I  go  to  announce  you  to  Herr  Julius  Goldman." 

In  passing,  he  said  something  to  his  neighbor, 
who  snickered  audibly.  In  a  moment  he  was 
back,  and  motioned  her  to  follow.  Immensely 
relieved,  yet  her  heart  palpitating  violently,  she 
followed  him  across  a  dark,  narrow,  uncarpeted 
passage,  at  the  end  of  which  was  a  massive  oaken 
door.  This  door  he  opened  noiselessly,  as  noise- 
lessly placed  a  chair  for  her,  said,  "  The  gracious 
lady,  Herr  Julius  Goldman,"  in  a  deferential, 
muffled  voice,  and  quickly  disappeared. 

At  the  farther  end  of  the  square,  dingy  room, 
before  a  ponderous  desk,  sat  a  squat,  broad-shoul- 
dered man.  His  back  was  turned  towards  her; 
but  the  strong  light  from  the  large  uncurtained 
window  fell  full  upon  his  red  hair,  of  that  pecu- 
liarly flaming,  repulsive  color  which  instinctively 
inspires  one  with  distrust.  It  was  sleek  and  brit- 
tle, and  cut  very  close  to  the  scalp;  but  unfor- 
tunately, little  as  there  was,  there  was  too  much 
of  it,  carefully  brushed  and  combed  as  it  was,  so 
that  each  hair  seemed  to  be  in  its  right  place. 
Either  he  was  too  engrossed  to  notice  her,  or  he 
had  not  heard  the  low  voice  of  the  clerk  as  he 
announced  her.  The  young  girl  grew  hot  and 
cold  by  turns  as  the  interminable  scratching  of 
the  pen  continued.  After  a  while  it  was  energet- 
ically flung  aside,  Herr  Goldman  said,  "So,"  and 
slightly  moved  in  his  chair.  The  girl's  heart 


92  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

* 

thumped  wildly ;  now  at  last  he  would  turn  round 
and  see  her.  But  no.  The  banker  stemmed  his 
elbows  on  his  desk,  and  meditated,  while  he  ner- 
vously bit  his  finger-nails.  She  sat  so  mute  she 
scarcely  dared  breathe.  What  should  she  do? 
Should  she  cough  ?  Walk  boldly  up  to  him  and 
say,  "Here,  you  man,  your  business  doubtless  is 
very  important  to  you,  but  mine  is  equally  so  to 
me.  I  may  be  very  small  and  insignificant  com- 
pared to  your  mightiness.  But  I  have  a  trust  to 
perform;  it  is  getting  near  dinner-time;  I  am 
hungry;  I  want  to  look  at  the  shops  before  I  go 
home.  What !  No  matter  how  great  and  power- 
ful you  are,  you  can't  eat  me.  So  there,  you 
horrid,  unmannerly  creature.  I  'm  going  to  pull 
the  cobwebs  from  your  mind  by  kicking  over  this 
stool  or  yourself,  I  don't  care  which." 

She  had  just  pulled  the  papers  with  which  she 
was  intrusted  from  her  bosom,  desperate  enough 
to  carry  out  her  resolve,  when  suddenly  Herr 
Goldman,  as  if  in  answer  to  some  invisible  query, 
said  very  decidedly,  "Quatch,"  pushed  the  ledger 
from  him,  and  turned  round.  The  rays  of  the 
noonday  sun  fell  subdued  through  the  grimy  win- 
dow panes.  Like  a  loving  benediction  they  en- 
circled the  young  girl  where  she  stood,  in  her 
light  delaine  summer  dress,  her  large  leghorn  hat 
pushed  from  her  brow,  her  cheeks  flushed,  the 
deep  violet  of  her  eyes  almost  black  with  excite- 
ment. The  banker  grasped  hold  of  the  back  of 
his  chair,  and  stared  at  her  as  if  she  had  de- 
scended from  the  skies,  and  he  momentarily  ex- 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  93 

pected  to  see  her  vanish.  His  confusion  gave  her 
confidence.  She  was  as  "ready  to  go  off  as  a 
popgun,"  now,  as  Babbett  would  have  expressed 
it.  Advancing  fearlessly,  she  made  a  sweet  little 
curtsy,  the  grace  of  which  was  partly  acquired 
and  all  the  rest  her  own,  placed  the  papers  in  his 
hands,  and  waited.  One  rapid  glance  he  gave  at 
them,  then  he  looked  back  at  her.  In  fact,  he 
preferred  to  look  at  her. 

"What  must  you  think  of  me?  "  he  stammered; 
"but  this  is  unheard  of.  How  long  have  you 
been  here,  gracious  Fraulein?  " 

"Quite  long  enough  to  feel  hungry,"  she  said 
demurely. 

"Heavens!  Fraulein,  you  —  I  will  ring  — 
everything  in  the  town  shall  be  at  your  disposal 
-  the  finest  —  the  best "  — 

He  caught  sight  of  her  quizzical  face  and  twitch- 
ing lips.  No,  she  could  hold  out  no  longer.  The 
relief  to  her  feelings  after  her  long  wait,  coupled 
with  his  consternation  at  her  ridiculous  answer, 
was  so  great,  if  it  had  cost  her  her  life,  she  would 
have  had  to  laugh.  She  burst  into  such  a  ringing 
peal  as  surely  the  grim  old  building  had  never 
heard.  The  ghosts  of  gone  and  departed  genera- 
tions of  Goldmans  must  have  been  scandalized  at 
such  unheard-of  levity.  For  Jette's  merriment 
came  straight  from  the  heart,  —  it  had  the  true, 
spontaneous  ring  of  contagious  mirth;  not  your 
smothered,  snickering  ghost  of  a  ladylike  laugh. 
Like  a  joyous  peal  of  bells  it  rang  out,  pure, 
resonant,  and  full,  gladdening  the  spirit,  and 


94  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

bringing  an  answering  refrain  from  the  lips  of 
the  most  pessimistic. 

The  banker's  face  flushed  dusky  red.  Then  he 
fell  in  with  her  laughter.  Indeed,  how  could  he 
help  it?  Who  would  not  join  in  mirth  at  once 
so  gladsome  and  sweet?  The  fresh,  pure  breezes 
of  her  native  hills  she  brought  with  her,  rarifying 
the  atmosphere  of  this  musty  old  place. 

"Really,"  she  said,  "I  am  ashamed  of  my  bad 
manners.  I  beg  your  pardon  a  thousand  times. 
I  have  not  been  here  so  very  long,  I  dare  say. 
Only  when  one  is  in  a  strange  place,  and  wait- 
ing"— 

"Yes,  yes,"  he  interrupted  eagerly,  "that  is 
just  what  I  want  to  know.  I  heard  no  one  an- 
nounce you.  Some  one  came  in  and  said,  'A  lady 
wants  to  see  you,  —  a  relation. '  I  have  so  many 
relations  —  good  Heavens !  they  pester  my  life  out. 
To  tell  you  the  truth  —  I  thought  it  was  my  grand- 
mother!" 

"Oh!  "  she  said.  She  tried  to  look  very  sym- 
pathetic. Then  the  idea  of  being  his  grandmother 
overcame  her  so  completely,  she  had  to  laugh 
again.  And  so  had  he. 

"You  see,"  he  said,  in  high  good  humor,  "how 
it  is.  A  man  has  no  peace  anywhere.  If  they 
cannot  catch  me  at  home,  they  are  always  sure 
of  finding  me  here.  My  grandmamma  —  well! 
she  is  an  estimable  old  lady,  —  oh,  very,  —  but  she 
plagues  the  life  out  of  me.  I  say  it  without  any 
disrespect  to  her.  It  is  always,  'Julius,  thou 
shouldst  not  do  this.  Julius,  thou  must  stop 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  95 

that. '  She  thinks  I  am  still  a  little  boy,  to  order 
around  at  her  pleasure.  To  her  I  have  never 
grown  up.  She  means  well,  of  course;  but  one 
can  kill  one  with  good  intentions." 

He  threw  out  his  white,  slightly  freckled  hands, 
in  graceful  gesticulation.  When  he  rose,  she  no- 
ticed he  had  a  club  foot.  He  was  quite  a  young 
man  yet,  perhaps  twenty-eight,  but  already 
showed  signs  of  baldness.  Herr  Goldman  had 
the  dissipated  appearance  of  the  finished  blase 
man  of  the  world.  He  had  the  fair,  freckled 
complexion  of  the  red-head,  prominent  dark  eyes, 
with  a  gold  ring  around  the  iris,  set  very  near 
each  other,  bristling  red  eyebrows,  a  bull  neck, 
fat,  puffy  cheeks,  and  a  rotund,  squat  figure.  His 
features  were  of  a  decidedly  Oriental  cast,  large, 
firm,  and  strongly  animal  from  the  high  massive 
forehead  to  the  wide,  thick  lips.  His  chin  was 
dimpled  like  a  woman's,  and  somewhat  softened 
the  cold  sensuality  of  his  face.  His  dress  was 
careful  to  elegance,  and  spite  of  his  deformity,  he 
moved  with  the  ease  and  nonchalance  of  a  well- 
bred,  cultivated  man. 

He  referred  to  the  papers  in  his  hand.  "The 
Herr  Baron,"  he  said,  "is  stopping  at  the  parson- 
age, which  is  your  home  also,  I  think,  Fraulein  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  said.  "The  Herr  Pastor  told  me  I 
could  talk  quite  unreservedly  to  you.  But  I  think 
he  explains  everything  in  his  letter." 

"  Quite  explicitly.  And  so  you  are  Fraulein  — 
Fraulein  "  - 

"  Jettchen."     She  smiled. 


96  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"Ah!  the  baron  is  fortunate  to  have  found  such 
a  haven  of  refuge.  But  pardon  —  I  do  not  think 
I  quite  caught  your  name? " 

"Everybody  calls  me  Jettchen,"  she  said,  "ex- 
cept the  Frau  Pastorin.  She  calls  me  by  my  full 
name.  To  the  villagers  I  am  Jette." 

He  shuddered  theatrically.  "What  a  profana- 
tion !  What  impudent  familiarity !  Not  to  show 
you  the  respect  of  calling  you  by  your  last  name !  " 

She  stared.  She  had  quite  forgotten  she  was 
entitled  to  any.  There  never  had  seemed  any 
occasion  to  use  it. 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "they  all  have  known  me  so 
long.  It  would  seem  strange  to  myself  to  be 
called  Fraulein  Cajena." 

She  said  it  with  mock  dignity.  Then  she  had 
to  laugh.  It  sounded  so  odd  to  her. 

"Ah!"  he  exclaimed  delightedly,  "I  thought 
so.  You  are  one  of  our  people." 

"I  am  a  Jewess,"  she  said. 

He  looked  at  her  with  tender  interest.  "I  was 
in  doubt  at  first;  you  have  none  of  the  signs  what- 
ever. But  there  is  an  indefinite  something  which 
speaks  to  the  blood,  I  suppose.  How  delightful ! 
And  so  you  have  grown  up  in  perfect  seclusion, 
hidden  away  from  all  the  world  like  a  rare  trea- 
sure." 

He  looked  at  her  with  glowing  insistence.  He 
passed  his  plump,  white,  exceedingly  well-kept 
hands  one  over  the  other,  as  if  he  were  caressing 
something.  When  he  talked  to  her,  as  she  was 
accustomed  to,  and  laughed  when  she  laughed, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  97 

she  felt  perfectly  at  ease.  But  now  a  feeling  of 
repulsion  stirred  her. 

"The  Herr  and  Frau  Pastorin  have  brought 
me  up,"  she  said.  "I  am  an  orphan,  and  had  no 
home.  I  owe  everything  to  them." 

She  pulled  herself  up  with  a  great  shock. 
Here  she  was,  wasting  her  time,  talking  to  this 
stranger  as  if  he  were  an  old  acquaintance.  Nice, 
prudent  behavior,  truly,  in  a  well-brought  up  young 
girl !  What  would  the  Frau  Pastorin  say,  if  only 
she  knew? 

"Sir,"  she  said  timidly,  "if  —  if  you  would  not 
mind"  — 

"Oh,"  he  said  reassuringly,  "everything  is  all 
right.  Herr  von  Czechy's  draft  shall  be  honored 
in  a  twinkling.  There  are  a  few  little  formalities 
to  be  gone  through  first.  Pardon  me  just  for  one 
moment." 

He  read  her  like  a  book.  He  knew  she  was 
vexed  and  frightened.  But  he  had  no  intention 
of  letting  her  go.  He  sat  down  at  his  desk,  and 
this  is  what  he  wrote :  — 

DEAR  MAMMA,  —  A  bird  of  paradise  has  just 
alighted  on  my  hand.  Come  and  help  me  tame 
it.  JULIUS. 

He  addressed  and  sealed  this.  Then  he  sharply 
rung  a  bell. 

"This  is  to  be  taken  to  its  address,"  he  com- 
manded, "as  quickly  as  the  messenger's  legs  can 
carry  him.  Go  —  fly!  Stay!  "  he  called  out  sud- 


98  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

denly,  as  the  obsequious  young  clerk,  who  had 
entered  with  a  deep  bow,  was  about  to  disappear; 
"which  of  you  blockheads  announced  the  young 
Fraulein?" 

The  young  fellow  looked  as  if  he  wished  him- 
self elsewhere.  "Sir,"  he  stammered — "Herr 
Goldman  —  it  was  I  —  I  thought "  — 

"Thought,  thought!  What  didst  thou  think? 
—  if  such  an  ass  as  thou  has  any  thought  at  all  in 
that  clot  of  mud  he  calls  his  brain!"  exclaimed 
the  banker  furiously. 

With  a  swift  gesture  Jette  raised  her  hands. 
Her  face  was  flushed  scarlet.  The  banker  under- 
stood her  embarrassment. 

"Go,"  he  said,  in  such  suddenly  mild  tones  that 
the  trembling  young  man  almost  fell  over  himself 
in  his  surprise.  He  scampered  back  to  the  outer 
office,  telling  his  colleagues,  who  were  all  dying 
of  curiosity,  that  they  would  catch  it  finely.  The 
young  chief  was  in  a  Donnerwetter  of  a  humor. 
A  nice  mistake  they  had  made,  truly !  This  was 
none  of  his  gallant  amours.  The  young  lady  they 
had  treated  with  such  disrespect  was  really  a  bona 
fide  relative.  If  they  didn't  believe  him,  just 
see.  He  held  out  the  missive  addressed  to  Ma- 
dame Goldman,  the  banker's  mother.  Then  there 
was  consternation  truly  among  the  young  Herren 
in  the  large  outer  office  of  the  banking-firm  of 
Goldman  &  Son.  They  looked  at  each  other  in 
the  deepest  anguish  of  mind  and  remorse  of  soul. 

"It  was  thou,  Kohn,  who  commenced  it,"  said 
one  young  fellow  reproachfully  to  the  one  who 


A   TENT  OF  GRACE  99 

had  first  spoken  to  Jette;  "thou  always  hast  such 
wicked  thoughts.  Thou  wouldst  think  evil  of  thy 
own  shadow." 

"I! "  retorted  Kohn  indignantly;  "well,  I  must 
say  but  that  is  grand !  Thou  donkey,  thou !  Did 
not  the  whole  lot  of  you,  thy  asinine  self  in- 
cluded, stare  at  the  young  Fraulein,  and  whisper, 
as  if  you  had  never  seen  anything  else  but  asses 
like  yourselves?" 

"That  is  right,"  said  his  fellow  clerk  scornfully; 
"  always  place  the  blame  where  it  does  not  be- 
long." 

"She  probably  is  some  relation  from  the  coun- 
try," suggested  another. 

"Bah!  she  is  not  a  bit  like  a  country  pome- 
granate. Anyway,  the  young  chief  is  going  to 
distribute  it  again  right  and  left.  We  had  better 
not  have  eyes  or  ears  for  anything  but  what 
strictly  concerns  ourselves." 

When,  presently,  Madame  Goldman's  carriage 
dashed  up  to  the  curb,  she  found  twelve  backs 
bending  themselves  almost  double  in  obsequious 
greeting,  and  twelve  pairs  of  eyes  furtively  watch- 
ing her  rustling  silks  into  her  son's  office. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

JETTE  explained  to  Herr  Goldman  that  the 
young  clerk  was  in  no  way  to  blame  for  announ- 
cing her  as  a  relative.  Some  one  had  suggested 
the  idea,  and  as  she  had  been  told  it  was  exceed- 


100  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

ingly  difficult  to  gain  access  to  the  private  office 
without  stating  one's  business,  she  had  gladly 
availed  herself  of  it.  Herr  Goldman  half  closed 
his  prominent  dark  eyes,  smiled,  and  ejaculated 
softly,  "  A  relative  —  ay,  why  not  ?  How  charm- 
ing, how  perfectly  charming!  "  But  he  was  care- 
ful not  to  pay  her  any  more  compliments,  and  to 
put  her  perfectly  at  her  ease,  spoke  to  her  as  he 
had  at  first,  in  the  half -familiar,  confident  manner 
one  uses  towards  a  child.  So  in  a  very  short  time 
he  had  her  whole  history  at  his  finger-tips,  —  her 
life  at  the  parsonage,  how  she  came  there,  her 
daily  duties,  her  whole  routine  of  life.  He  was 
very  insistent  to  find  out  how  long  since  it  was 
the  doctor  and  his  friend  had  come.  His  brow 
darkened  when  he  heard  that  it  was  fully  three 
weeks. 

"  What  folly !  "  he  muttered.  He  looked  at  her 
strangely.  That  two  attractive  young  men,  high- 
bred and  cultivated,  and  a  heavenly  creature  like 
this  should  have  been  constantly  in  each  other's 
society  so  long —  H'm!  It  was  high  time  there 
should  be  an  end  to  it. 

His  mother  entered,  in  high  displeasure. 

"Julius  —  it  really  is  inconceivable  —  what  mad 
freak  of  thine  is  this  now?" 

Madame  Goldman  was  short,  dumpy,  and  pudgy, 
with  somewhat  masculine  features,  but  a  strong 
individuality  of  her  own.  She  was  dressed  en- 
tirely in  black,  rich,  heavy  silks,  of  the  kind  which 
"stand  alone."  She  was  dark,  very  Oriental-look- 
ing, and  grande  dame  down  to  her  fine  Parisian 


A  TENT  OF  G&ACE 


iot 


boots.  A  Viennese  by  birth,  she  had  all  the  cul- 
ture, vivacity,  and  ease  of  bearing  which  distin- 
guish those  Parisians  of  the  Danube,  and  also 
their  fascinating  little  peculiarities  of  speech.  She 
was  the  chum  and  confidante  of  her  son,  and  had 
helped  him  out  of  scrapes  more  times  than  she 
ever  had  boxed  his  ears.  He  was  her  only  child, 
and  she  had  been  his  constant  companion  ever 
since  he  outgrew  a  nurse's  care.  He  smiled,  and 
enjoyed  the  surprise  he  had  in  store  for  her. 

"Dear  mamma,"  he  said,  "how  kind  of  you  to 
come  so  quickly.  See  the  young  Fraulein.  She 
is  a  stranger  to  our  city,  and  recommended  to  our 
best  care.  Let  me  present  you  to  my  mother, 
Fraulein  Cajena." 

Madame  Goldman  bowed  somewhat  distantly, 
but  with  the  easy  grace  of  a  thoroughly  accom- 
plished woman  of  the  world.  She  looked  at  the 
young  girl  with  a  great  deal  of  interest,  and  far 
more  curiosity.  Jette  dropped  her  prettiest  curtsy, 
somewhat  awed  by  the  great  lady's  grand  appear- 
ance. The  banker's  mother  smiled.  "Very  unso- 
phisticated," she  thought,  "but,  dear  Heaven,  how 
lovely !  "  She  followed  her  son  to  the  window, 
where  they  carried  on  a  very  animated  conversa- 
tion in  French.  Mother  and  son  spoke  the  lan- 
guage like  natives.  Not  in  teutonized,  halting 
phrases,  but  the  purest,  most  scholarly  Parisian, 
with  here  and  there  a  gesture  and  a  shrug,  as  if 
they  had  spent  all  their  lives  in  the  city  by  the 
Seine.  Occasionally  the  grand  lady  gave  a  side 
glance  at  the  young  girl,  sitting  expectantly  in 


itba^  WlFENT  OF  GRACE 

her  chair,  and  she  would  ejaculate  softly,  "Est-ce 
que  possible ! "  She  nodded  her  head  several 
times,  seemed  somewhat  astonished,  but  not  wholly 
displeased.  The  truth  is,  her  son  was  making  a 
proposition  to  her,  which,  if  she  had  not  been  his 
best  friend,  he  never  would  have  dared  to  submit 
to  her.  During  his  three  years'  absence  in  Paris 
and  one  year  in  Vienna,  he  had  confided  all  his 
mad  escapades  to  her.  And  let  me  tell  you  that 
they  were  neither  few  in  number  nor  tame  in  expe- 
rience. She  would  storm,  scold,  and  reprimand, 
but  through  it  all  he  was  always  sure  of  her 
counsel  and  stanch  loyalty.  Madame  Goldman 
adored  young  people,  and  was  idolized  by  them. 
Only  sixteen  years  older  than  her  son,  she  was 
both  mother  and  companion  to  him.  At  the  age 
of  fifteen  she  was  married  to  her  cousin,  who  was 
just  double  her  age.  The  union  had  been  one 
of  financial  policy,  to  combine  the  house  of  Gold- 
man and  her  father's  in  a  mutual  interest.  When 
she  married,  she  took  all  her  dolls  with  her,  and 
found  as  much  pleasure  in  dressing  and  undressing 
them  as  if  they  were  still  the  only  claimants  on 
her  affection.  The  first  two  or  three  years  of  her 
married  life  were  far  from  happy.  When  her 
husband  came  home  at  night,  weary  with  the 
day's  close  mental  application,  he  found  the  liv- 
ing-rooms deserted.  The  servants  did  not  know 
where  their  mistress  was,  and  the  whole  big  house 
had  to  be  searched,  till  she  was  found  in  the  attic, 
playing  with  her  dolls.  In  the  mean  time  the 
dinner  had  grown  cold,  the  cook  was  out  of  temper, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  103 

—  everybody  did  exactly  as  he  or  she  pleased. 
When  her  child  was  born,  she  came  near  to  dying. 
A  nurse  was  provided.  It  was  thought  natural, 
under  the  circumstances,  she  should  not  take  any 
notice  of  him;  but  things  did  not  mend  when 
she  recovered.  She  looked  at  the  unsightly,  de- 
formed little  object  with  profound  astonishment. 
He  took  after  the  red -headed,  prominent-eyed 
branch  of  the  Goldman  family.  She  did  not  like 
this  at  all.  If  he  had  been  more  like  herself,  she 
might  more  readily  have  taken  to  him.  She  left 
him  to  his  nurse,  a  robust,  strapping  peasant 
woman,  from  whose  bounteous  breasts  this  young 
hope  of  an  opulent  race  greedily  drew  health  and 
substance.  Fortunate  for  him  it  was  that  the 
nurse  was  both  conscientious  and  kind.  While 
the  mother  returned  to  her  dolls  and  her  music, 
of  which  she  was  passionately  fond,  the  child  grew 
up  under  the  nurse's  care.  When  her  services 
were  no  longer  required  in  nourishing  him,  she 
still  stayed  on.  This  continued  until  he  was  three 
years  old.  Then  he  sickened,  and  the  doctor  said 
it  was  scarlet  fever  of  a  virulent  type.  The  house 
was  hushed,  the  most  eminent  professors  were 
summoned  posthaste  in  consultation.  The  mother 
tiptoed  into  the  nursery  and  looked  at  the  child, 
tossing  in  his  little  crib,  moaning  in  delirium,  and 
clutching  the  dry,  parched  throat.  What  passed 
within  her  then,  only  herself  and  her  God  knew. 
Like  a  tidal  wave,  the  mother-instinct  leapt  into 
life,  so  that  she  reeled  and  almost  fell  with  the 
magnitude  of  the  revelation.  She  swept  aside  the 


104  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

nurse,  and  from  that  hour  took  her  station  beside 
her  child  by  right  divine.  Her  husband  and  rela- 
tives implored  her  not  to  expose  herself  to  the 
disease;  she  had  never  had  it;  she  was  so  young. 
Why,  the  nurse,  of  whom  he  was  so  fond,  and 
who  had  done  mother's  duty  by  him  since  he  was 
born,  was  far  more  competent  to  take  care  of  him 
than  she,  who  had  never  had  any  experience  at  all 
in  nursing.  She  said  nothing,  but  gave  them  one 
long  look,  which  silenced  and  overawed  them, 
shut  herself  up  with  her  sick  child  and  admitted 
none  but  the  doctors,  and  for  nine  frightful  nights 
and  days  matched  her  strength,  her  cleverness, 
and  her  devotion  against  the  fierce  destroyer,  and 
smote  him  hip  and  thigh.  Not  till  then  did  she 
consent  to  take  a  sorely  needed  rest ;  for  not  once 
during  all  that  time  of  watching  had  she  removed 
her  clothing.  When  the  child  was  fully  recov- 
ered, she  sent  the  jealous,  wrathful  nurse  —  who 
from  a  servant  had  fancied  herself  mistress  — 
back  to  her  native  village,  loaded  with  presents 
and  every  conceivable  token  of  generosity.  But 
she  would  have  no  more  of  her,  and  took  her 
child,  who  clung  to  her  with  idolizing  affection,  to 
the  Bavarian  Alps,  where  both  grew  so  hardy  and 
strong  that  everybody  was  astonished  when  they 
returned  home.  The  dolls  were  swept  into  a  big 
cedar  chest,  and  consigned  to  a  corner  in  the  attic. 
There  they  awaited  their  resurrection  in  the  com- 
ing of  a  new  and  more  appreciative  generation. 
But  the  chest  gathered  cobwebs,  the  dolls  got 
moth-eaten ;  for  those  for  whom  they  waited  never 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  105 

came.  Poor,  disappointed  dollies!  poor,  disap- 
pointed mistress !  The  six  girls  and  six  boys,  who 
were  to  join  in  the  sports  of  their  elder  brother, 
patter  up  and  down  the  grand  staircase  with  their 
little  feet,  and  fill  the  big  empty  house  with  their 
gleeful  shouts  and  laughter,  never  came.  And  as 
each  year  went  by,  with  its  longed-for  hope  unful- 
filled, the  mistress  of  all  this  wealth  and  grandeur 
often  looked  in  the  glass,  and  saw  only  the  shad- 
ows of  her  forlorn  hopes  mocking  her.  This  one 
child  remained  to  her,  and  it  was  all  she  had. 
When  at  night  she  kissed  him,  it  was  for  all  the 
six  brothers  and  sisters  she  fancied  she  had  de- 
frauded him  of.  She  thought  the  Lord  had  pun- 
ished her  for  not  appreciating  the  blessing  he  had 
sent  her  at  first.  She  bowed  her  head  in  submis- 
sion, but  she  suffered  cruelly.  It  drew  mother 
and  son  in  bonds  of  the  closest  union,  especially 
as  the  father  had  become  a  perfect  business  ma- 
chine. His  son  was  his  heir ;  beyond  that  he  had 
very  little  in  common  with  him.  So  the  rich, 
envied  woman  went  her  lonely  way,  and  busied 
herself  with  outside  interests,  and  tried  to  fill  the 
big  void  in  her  heart  by  making  the  poor  happy. 
She  wanted  her  son  to  marry,  and  to  marry  well. 
The  sole  heir  of  the  powerful  house  of  Goldman 
could  have  his  pick  and  choice  among  the  richest 
and  prettiest  heiresses  of  Europe.  She  would 
dandle  his  children  on  her  knee.  Thou  dear  God ! 
how  she  would  love  them!  They  should  be  her 
compensation;  the  dolls  should  have  their  new 
companions  yet.  But  here  he  was  already  eight- 


106  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

and-twenty,  and  showed  no  more  inclination  to 
marry  than  when  he  was  in  his  teens.  Several 
very  desirable  alliances  had  been  proposed  to  him, 

—  desirable  even  from  the  Goldman  point  of  view, 

—  but  he  had  scouted  every  one,  until  both  she 
and  his  father  were  on  the  point  of  losing  patience. 

She  looked  at  the  lovely  creature,  whose  history 
he  was  relating  in  a  few  rapid  words,  as  if  she 
had  fallen  from  the  skies.  Her  son  had  had  fan- 
cies before,  serious  ones,  she  had  feared  at  times, 
but  there  was  a  glow  on  his  face,  a  flash  in  his 
eye,  which  told  her  his  time  had  come.  He  did 
not,  of  course,  tell  her  this.  But  he  scarcely 
would  have  proposed  she  should  take  this  heavenly 
messenger  under  her  protection  during  the  rest 
of  her  stay,  if  he  had  not  some  other  and  very 
serious  motive  in  the  background.  The  girl  was 
lovely,  undeniably  so.  She  was  of  the  same  faith 
as  themselves,  though  brought  up  under  peculiar 
circumstances.  But  this  only  added  to  the  inter- 
est every  one  must  feel  in  her.  H'm !  It  might 
have  been  worse.  Suppose  he  had  fallen  in  love, 
as  she  so  often  had  feared,  with  some  one  of  an- 
other faith?  He  was  so  advanced  in  his •  views,  so 
very  headstrong, —  besides,  he  was  quite  old  enough 
to  be  master  of  his  own  actions.  If  he  wanted 
to  marry  a  poor  girl,  he  was  quite  rich  enough  to 
indulge  in  the  luxury.  He  would  have  to  settle 
that  matter  with  his  father.  Madame  Goldman 
turned  towards  Jette. 

"Dear  child,"  she  said,  in  that  caressing  man- 
ner she  always  adopted  towards  young  people, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  107 

"my  son  has  told  me  everything,  and  why  you 
are  here.  Now  that  your  business  is  finished,  you 
must  give  the  rest  of  the  day  to  me.  But  first  let 
us  go  home  and  have  luncheon." 

"You  are  too  good  —  too  kind,"  stammered 
Jette,  terribly  confused.  "I  —  I  hope  you  do  not 
take  seriously  what  I  said  to  Herr  Goldman." 

The  banker's  face  beamed.  "You  told  me  you 
were  hungry,"  he  said. 

"And  you  took  me  for  your  grandmother,"  she 
retorted.  Then  they  all  three  looked  at  each 
other,  and  burst  into  peals  of  laughter.  And  so, 
in  gay  good  humor,  they  passed  out  by  a  private 
door,  and  were  driven  to  the  banker's  palatial 
home.  And  the  twelve  young  Herren  in  the  outer 
office  rushed  pell-mell  to  the  window  to  look  after 
the  retreating  carriage,  looked  at  each  other, 
shook  their  black,  curly  polls,  and  said  wisely  and 
sagely,  "That  is  going  to  be  a  marriage." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

MADAME  GOLDMAN  was  charmed  and  fascinated 
with  her  young  visitor.  She  only  regretted  her 
stay  could  be  of  such  short  duration.  She  pro- 
posed to  Jette  to  send  a  trusty  messenger  to  Neu- 
kirch  with  the  money  and  papers  she  was  to  bring, 
and  beg  for  a  holiday.  To  this  Jette,  in  a  fever 
of  trepidation,  would  not  consent.  She  was  highly 
honored  and  delighted  by  the  great  lady's  kind- 
ness and  condescension,  as  indeed  she  had  every 


108  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

reason  to  be.  But  her  mission  was  to  her  a  sacred 
one.  The  Herr  Pastor  had  charged  her  to  per- 
form it.  She  had  succeeded  far  better  than  she 
had  expected.  Proud  and  elated,  she  would  not 
think  of  dividing  her  duty  with  any  one  else,  how-  j 
ever  trustworthy.  Timidly,  but  firmly,  she  re-1 
minded  Madame  Goldman  of  the  secrecy  of  her 
errand.  There  were  other  motives,  besides,  which 
made  her  anxious  to  return.  She  knew  that  in 
a  very  few  days  the  doctor  and  his  guest  would 
depart.  For  the  former  she  did  not  care ;  for  the 
latter  she  cared  a  great  deal.  She  wanted  to  see 
the  last  of  him,  to  bid  him  good-by  and  God- 
speed. They  had  been  such  good  friends,  never, 
never  would  she  forget  this  summer  which  he  had 
made  so  delightful  to  her.  Jette  had  never  known 
the  companionship  of  a  brother,  that  close  inti- 
macy and  sympathetic  familiarity  which  unites 
two  beings  born  of  the  same  mother  in  the  sweet- 
est, purest  bonds  of  friendship.  From  the  begin- 
ning of  the  world,  God  intended  it  so ;  and  from 
the  beginning  of  the  world,  man,  fulfilling  so  little 
of  what  was  expected  of  him,  has  been  false  to  his 
trust.  But  Jette,  having  been  brought  up  reli- 
giously, and  believing  in  the  sacredness  of  the  Ten 
Commandments,  besides  steeping  her  young  soul 
in  all  sorts  of  miscellaneous  reading,  which  caused 
no  end  of  a  muddle  in  her  young  brain,  had 
formed  a  very  exalted  ideal  of  what  a  brother 
should  be.  In  her  healthy,  vigorous  life  there  was 
not  much  time  left  for  romancing.  But  she  was 
more  alone  than  was  good  for  her;  she  never  took 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  109 

counsel  with  companions  of  her  own  age,  because 
she  had  none.  So  in  her  fervent,  hero-worshiping 
mind  she  created  her  own  idols,  and  prostrated 
herself  before  them.  This,  of  course,  gave  her 
a  very  charming  individuality.  Blase  people  of 
the  world  refreshed  themselves  with  her  original 
sayings,  and  forgot  their  scornful  pessimism  in 
her  fervent  trust  in  all  that  to  them  was  most  un- 
trustworthy. Jette  was  by  no  means  in  love  with 
Hans  von  Czechy.  Never  for  one  moment  in  her 
life  had  she  thought  of  such  a  thing.  Her  intel- 
lect was  cultivated  beyond  her  years,  but  it  had 
left  the  faculties  of  her  heart  all  asleep.  She 
thought  of  the  young  baron  as  a  brother,  and  that 
is  how  she  worshiped  him. 

Madame  Goldman  resolved,  if  she  could  not  see 
as  much  of  her  guest  now  as  she  wanted  to,  she 
would  see  a  great  deal  of  her  in  the  future.  Then 
there  was  crowded  in  the  few  hours  remaining 
to  her  so  much  of  sight-seeing,  and  pleasure,  and 
shopping,  as  Jette  had  no  idea  could  be  accom- 
plished in  a  week.  The  great  Cathedral  was 
visited,  of  course.  As  they  passed  down  the  aisle, 
a  woman  who  had  been  kneeling  in  silent  worship 
arose,  and  liberally  sprinkled  herself  with  holy 
water.  There  was  quite  a  shower  of  small  sprays, 
some  of  which  struck  Jette  in  the  face.  She  shrank 
as  if  she  had  received  a  blow,  and  from  her  slim 
height  looked  down  at  Madame  Goldman  in  a  half- 
frightened  manner.  The  great  lady  smiled,  and 
in  a  whisper  jocularly  remarked  that  now  she  sup- 
posed she  must  consider  herself  christened. 


110  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"Do  you  think  so  —  oh,  is  it  true?"  faltered 
the  girl. 

"Dear  child,"  said  the  elder  lady  seriously, 
"how  can  you  be  so  simple?  As  if  it  mattered 
if  a  whole  shower  of  the  water  was  poured  over 
you.  It  cannot  affect  your  convictions." 

But  Jette's  disquietude  was  not  quite  allayed 
till  the  carriage  drew  up  before  one  of  the  large 
shops.  In  the  plenitude  of  her  purse  and  the 
goodness  of  her  heart,  Madame  Goldman  wanted 
to  shower  presents  upon  the  young  girl.  But  the 
latter  felt  a  very  comfortable  conviction  that  the 
Frau  Pastorin  would  have  considered  it  very  ill- 
bred  of  her  to  accept.  Besides,  her  wants  were 
so  few  and  simple  she  did  not  know  what  to  do 
with  the  things. 

"Please,  no,"  she  said;  "some  other  time  — 
when  I  come  again  —  when  you  have  known  me 
longer,  and  consider  me  more  worthy  of  your 
kindness." 

"But  is  there  nothing  —  nothing  you  will  take 
from  me  as  a  little  keepsake  even?"  asked  Ma- 
dame Goldman. 

"If  you  would  not  mind,  there  is  a  bottle  of 
Maria  Farina  —  no,  no,  not  that  big  one  —  the 
little  one  —  I  had  intended  to  get  it  myself  —  the 
Frau  Pastorin  —  she  is  so  fond  of  it "  — 

"Well,  there  surely  must  be  something  else?  " 

"As  we  passed  up  the  aisle  I  saw  a  nice  warm 
hood  —  I  think  Babbett  would  be  pleased  —  you 
see,  she  is  getting  old  —  she  knits  them  herself, 
but  they  are  not  near  as  handsome  as  that  one. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  111 

In  the  winter,  when  it  is  cold,  you  have  no  idea 
how  one's  ears  freeze  —  she  could  wear  that  one 
to  church  —  Oh,  thank  you.  How  good  you  are !  " 

"Now  I  am  sure  there  is  something  else." 

"No,"  she  said  reflectively,  "unless  it  is  that 
beautiful  handkerchief  over  there.  The  Herr 
Pastor  would  feel  quite  grand  wearing  it  on  a 
Sunday.  But  I  suppose  it  costs  a  lot  of  money. 
Oh,  are  you  really  going  to  buy  it  ?  Well  —  now 
—  I  don't  see  how  you  can  be  so  generous  to  me." 

"Now  you  must  pick  out  something  for  your- 
self. Indeed,  I  insist  upon  it." 

"Oh,  but  look  at  the  lot  of  money  you  have 
already  spent.  No,  no.  I  could  not  think  of  it. 
Besides,  I  have  all  I  want." 

She  would  not  allow  the  obsequious  shopman  to 
carry  the  precious  parcel  to  the  carriage,  but  took 
it  herself,  all  in  a  flutter  of  delight  at  the  trea- 
sures it  contained.  Everybody  looked  after  her, 
and  smiled  in  sympathy  with  her  happiness. 
Then  they  drove  to  a  famous  Conditorei,  where 
all  the  wealth,  and  fashion,  and  beauty  of  the  town 
assembled  of  an  afternoon  to  drink  cafe  glace 
or  eat  ices.  The  windows  were  wide  open,  they 
could  see  the  steamboats  with  their  joyous  occu- 
pants plying  up  and  down  the  glistening  blue 
Rhine.  A  military  band  was  playing  Strauss 's 
last  new  waltz,  with  its  intoxicating  rhythm,  — 
playing  as  only  a  trained  German  band  can  play. 
There  was  a  babel  of  subdued  voices  and  soft, 
musical  laughter.  What  happiness !  Really  the 
world  was  beautiful  I 


112  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

And  there,  too,  was  Herr  Goldman.  He  had 
been  obliged  to  leave  them  right  after  luncheon, 
but  he  knew  very  well  where  and  at  what  hour  to 
find  them.  For  the  last  twenty  minutes  his  eyes 
had  been  fixed  hungrily  upon  that  door.  With 
a  beaming  smile  he  beckoned  to  them  as  they 
entered.  The  best  table,  in  the  breeziest  spot  and 
commanding  the  finest  outlook,  he  had  already  re- 
served, to  which  the  waiter,  all  smiles  and  bows, 
conducted  them.  Then  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life  Jette  ate  ices.  Ye  Heavens !  did  ever  again 
in  all  her  life  anything  taste  quite  like  this  ?  The 
first  delicious  tickling  of  the  palate  is  very  much 
like  first  love,  —  the  same  blissful  sensations  never 
return.  And  then  the  pastry  —  light,  flimsy 
things,  with  just  weight  enough  to  contain  the 
most  delicious  fillings,  which  surely  the  gods 
on  Olympus  themselves  must  have  made.  The 
banker  watched  her  with  the  greatest  amusement. 
In  her  wholesome,  healthy  life  Jette  had  not 
been  spoilt  with  dainties.  It  was  such  a  new  and 
wholly  delightful  experience  to  her  that  I  am 
sorry  to  say  she  gave  way  to  it  more  than  was 
good  for  her.  It  was  the  banker's  fault,  wicked 
rascal.  When  he  saw  how  much  the  girl  enjoyed 
this  novel  treat,  he  gave  such  lavish  orders  to  the 
waiter  as  made  even  that  experienced  functionary 
stare.  Madame  Goldman  looked  at  her  son  over 
her  glass  of  cafe  glace,  and  frowned. 

"She  will  have  indigestion,"  she  said,  most 
severely,  in  French. 

"She  doesn't  know  what  it  is,"  he  answered, 


A   TENT  OF  GRACE  113 

hugely  delighted  to  see  another  ice  disappear. 
"What!  with  those  eyes  so  clear  you  can  see 
right  through  them,  and  that  superb  complexion 
beside  which  ours  looks  like  tallow?  Ask  her. 
I  will  wager  she  won't  know  what  you  mean." 

Which  in  very  truth  it  proved  to  be.  Indi- 
gestion !  She  laughed.  She  had  never  heard  of 
such  a  thing.  It  was  a  word  as  foreign  to  her 
vocabulary  as  nerves  was  to  Babbett's.  Herr 
Goldman  strolled  away  for  a  moment,  and  had 
a  big  bag  filled  with  the  choicest  confectionery 
the  place  contained.  Then  he  selected  a  hand- 
some satin-lined  box,  had  it  piled  to  the  top  with 
bonbons,  and  directed  the  whole  to  be  securely  and 
nicely  packed  and  taken  to  the  carriage.  He  in- 
tended she  should  be  well  supplied  on  her  journey 
on  the  morrow,  and  that  at  the  same  time  it  was 
his  forethought  which  had  so  generously  provided 
for  her.  She  should  be  grateful  to  him,  the  little 
angel.  Apres?  One  would  see. 

As  he  stumped  back,  in  and  out  among  the  little 
tables,  he  was  stared  at  with  more  than  usual  in- 
terest. A  party  of  officers,  haughty,  overbearing 
fellows,  who  usually  contented  themselves  with  care- 
lessly nodding  to  him,  stopped  him  with  effusion. 

"Goldman  Liebster,  tell  us  who  is  that  divine 
Backfisch  who  came  in  with  your  mother?  A 
stranger,  eh?" 

Herr  Goldman's  vanity  was  flattered.  To  be 
thus  familiarly  addressed  by  the  arrogant,  proud 
Baron  von  Z in  the  presence  of  all  fashiona- 
ble Cologne  was  indeed  no  small  social  distinction. 


114  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"To  the  city  —  yes,"  lie  said  in  his  smooth 
manner;  "but  not  by  any  means  to  us." 

"  Donnerwetter !  where  have  you  hidden  her  all 
the  time  ?  She  is  simply  heavenly  beautiful.  After 
rending  our  hearts  by  a  glimpse  of  her,  do  you 
intend  to  put  her  back  under  lock  and  key?  " 

"You  must  ask  my  mother,"  he  said,  laughing. 
"The  young  Fraulein  is  under  her  special  care." 

"  Heavens !  I  wish  she  would  allow  me  to  share 
it,"  sighed  a  beardless  young  lieutenant. 

"You  had  better  ask  her,"  suggested  Herr 
Goldman,  the  gold  rings  in  his  eyes  gleaming  like 
fire. 

"Ask  Beelzebub  and  all  his  dragons.  How  can 
one  approach  her,  guarded  like  that?  Not  once 
has  she  glanced  this  way,  though  I  have  sighed  "  — 

"Enough  to  inflate  this  room,  and  float  us  all 
over  the  Rhine,"  interrupted  von  Z . 

"Cold-hearted  creature,"  moaned  the  young 
lieutenant. 

"No  wonder,"  laughed  a  gay  young  subaltern, 
"if  she  fortifies  her  system  with  nothing  but 
ices." 

"Don't  disquiet  yourselves,  gentlemen,"  said 
Herr  Goldman;  "the  young  Fraulein  is  going 
back  to  school." 

"Going  back  to  school?"  chorused  the  young 
officers.  "No,  indeed;  we  won't  allow  that.  We 
will  lie  in  wait  for  the  post-chaise,  and  make  the 
postilions  surrender." 

"She  belongs  to  your  people,  eh?"  inquired 
von  Z hesitatingly. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  115 

Herr  Goldman  bowed.  "She  belongs  to  my 
people,"  he  said,  measured  and  coldly.  There 
was  hauteur  as  well  as  triumph  in  his  voice.  He 
went  back  to  his  table,  assisted  his  mother  with 
her  lace  shawl,  piloted  Jette,  with  a  smiling  air 
of  proprietorship,  in  the  wake  of  Madame  Gold- 
man, and  drove  off  with  them  in  the  serene  know- 
ledge that  he  was  the  most  envied  man  in  the  town 
that  day. 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

THAT  was  a  blissful  day  for  Jette.  So  many 
events  were  crowded  into  it,  they  might  w*ell  have 
been  distributed  over  the  whole  year.  She  had 
accomplished  her  errand  successfully,  she  had 
made  new  friends,  who  treated  her  like  a  spoilt 
child,  and  had  given  her  a  glimpse  of  that  great 
world,  into  which  she  glided  as  easily  and  natu- 
rally as  if  she  had  always  belonged  to  it.  The 
drive  along  the  public  promenade  —  should  she 
ever  forget  it!  The  band  had  played  as  band 
surely  never  played  before.  Such  waltzes  —  oh, 
how  could  people  lounge  around  without  seizing 
hold  of  each  other  and  keeping  time  to  such  rav- 
ishing music !  She,  for  her  part,  could  not  keep 
still.  It  was  with  difficulty  she  preserved  the 
proper  decorum  in  the  carriage.  People  looked 
at  her,  smiled,  and  looked  again  and  again.  In- 
deed, who  could  help  it?  Her  flushed  cheeks,  her 
beaming  eyes,  the  thrill  of  ecstasy  which  half 
parted  her  lips,  showing  just  the  edges  of  her 


116  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

glistening,  perfect  teeth,  —  could  eyes  behold  a 
more  absorbing  vision  of  health,  happiness,  and 
beauty?  And  then  her  sweet,  gracious  youth, 
the  air  of  perfect  innocence  and  purity,  which 
surrounded  her  like  a  benediction  from  on  high, 
and  made  the  boldest  roue  involuntarily  subdue 
his  gaze,  —  surely,  if  she  received  much,  she  gave 
as  much  in  return.  The  banker  and  his  mother 
constantly  exchanged  glances  as  they  watched  her. 
They  smiled  in  sympathy  with  her  joy,  and  echoed 
her  gleeful  laugh  for  the  same  reason.  If  ever 
there  was  a  proud  man  in  Cologne,  it  surely  was 
Herr  Goldman.  He  enjoyed  the  notice  they  at- 
tracted, the  looks  of  envy  directed  towards  him- 
self, the  distinction  of  being  bowed  to  by  people 
of  the  most  exclusive  set,  who  at  best  had  only 

nodded  carelessly  to  him  before.    Baron  von  Z 

and  his  brother  officers  passed  and  repassed.  They 
sighed,  looked,  and  languished.  But  not  the 
slightest  glance  did  they  obtain.  Jette  was  far 
too  much  absorbed  in  her  own  enjoyment  to  take 
heed  of  anybody.  She  would  have  been  seized 
with  the  greatest  consternation,  if  any  one  had 
drawn  her  attention  to  the  notice  she  was  exciting. 
All  her  pleasure  would  have  been  spoilt.  This 
utter  unconsciousness  pleased  Herr  Goldman  and 
his  mother  more  than  all  else.  The  banker  felt 
that  he  was  avenged  for  many  a  slight  and  covert 

sneer  von  Z and  his  confreres  had  bestowed 

upon  the  "Jew." 

At   dinner   Jette   met  Goldman,   senior.     She 
looked  down  upon  a  small,  thin,  wiry  old  gentle- 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  117 

man,  dressed  in  very  shabby,  rusty,  black  clothes. 
The  skirts  of  his  swallow -tailed  coat  almost 
touched  his  heels,  the  lapels  were  covered  with 
snuff,  and  his  skinny  little  chin  quite  disappeared 
in  an  enormously  high  collar  and  a  black  satin 
stock,  all  frayed  at  the  edges.  He  was  very  bald- 
headed,  and  his  eyes  —  prominent  and  dark,  with 
gold  rings  in  them  like  his  son's  —  had  a  sharp, 
comprehensive  look,  which  took  in  a  great  deal 
at  a  single  glance.  His  great  financial  schemes 
absorbed  all  his  time  and  attention,  with  one  great 
exception,  —  his  wife.  Her  he  worshiped  and 
doted  upon,  and  was  jealous  of  the  great  affection 
she  bestowed  upon  their  son.  If  she  kissed  the 
latter,  she  had  to  kiss  him  also,  or  he  would  be 
sulky  for  a  month.  The  fine  clothes  and  jewels 
and  gimcracks  he  disdained  for  himself,  he  lav- 
ished in  profusion  upon  her.  She  had  the  most 
thoroughbred  horses  and  the  finest  appointed  car- 
riage in  the  whole  Rhine  province.  She  could 
spend  money  as  profusely  as  she  pleased  upon  her 
charities,  —  for  charity  and  the  name  of  Goldman 
were  synonymous,  —  her  entertainments,  her  hob- 
bies. During  the  hot  summer  months  she  went 
to  Ems  and  Wiesbaden,  and  no  more  ardent  ad- 
mirer trotted  in  her  train  than  this  snuffy,  shabby, 
little  old  gentleman.  His  love  for  his  old  clothes 
was  the  only  point  of  contention  between  them. 
He  clung  to  them  as  long  as  she  would  let  him. 
When  finally  she  used  the  utmost  finesse  to  sub- 
stitute a  new  suit,  he  was  ill-humored  and  out  of 
gear  until  it  commenced  to  look  as  shabby  as  the 


118  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

old  one.  At  first  he  flatly  refused  to  give  them 
up,  and  to  his  intense  delight  and  her  consterna- 
tion, he  recovered  them,  and  triumphantly  put 
them  on  again.  After  that,  she  always  had  them 
burnt.  This  caused  no  end  of  dismay,  for  as  it 
happened,  rigidly  as  the  pockets  always  were 
searched,  a  valuable  memorandum,  secreted  in  a 
receptacle  known  only  to  himself,  had  been  over- 
looked. So  they  came  to  an  amicable  understand- 
ing that  he  was  to  receive  notice  whenever  he  was 
required  to  put  on  new  clothing.  The  poor  old 
gentleman  used  to  quake  weeks  beforehand,  for 
so  well  was  he  used  to  the  different  expressions  in 
his  wife's  face  that  he  could  always  tell  whenever 
she  meditated  one  of  her  raids  upon  his  old 
clothes.  At  night,  when  he  went  to  bed,  she  had 
her  own  maid  brush  them,  while  he  kept  a  jealous 
watch  on  her.  But  his  trousers  he  positively  re- 
fused to  give  up.  These  he  secreted  so  cleverly 
that  the  most  diligent  search  could  never  discover 
them.  In  the  morning,  before  she  was  awake,  he 
would  with  great  secrecy  and  caution  draw  them 
from  their  hiding-place.  At  stated  times  during 
the  week  she  laid  out  his  clean  linen,  had  the  bath 
prepared,  conducted  him  to  the  door,  and  shut 
him  in.  Her  manner  to  him  was  as  maternal  as 
if  he  had  been  a  pet  child,  instead  of  being  fifteen 
years  her  senior.  When  she  stooped  over  to  kiss 
him,  and  brushed  the  few  wisps  of  hair  from 
his  high  forehead,  very  broad  at  the  temples,  the 
faded  rings  in  his  eyes  would  sparkle,  and  his 
sallow  skin  flush  like  a  schoolgirl's.  During  the 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  119 

twenty-nine  years  of  their  married  life,  he  had 
never  once  gone  away  without  kissing  her  and 
doing  the  same  when  he  returned.  When  first 
he  had  brought  her  home  a  mere  child  from  the 
schoolroom,  and  she  had  shut  herself  up  in  the 
attic  to  play  with  her  dolls  to  avoid  meeting  him, 
he  had  been  a  patient  and  fatherly  protector  to 
her.  Thus  had  she  grown  into  his  life  to  be  both 
child  and  wife  to  him.  He  never  missed  a  daugh- 
ter, because  she  was  all  to  him.  So  had  it  been 
from  the  first,  and  so  would  it  be  to  the  last. 

Jette's  awe  and  trepidation  at  meeting  the  great 
senior  of  the  famous  banking-house  vanished 
when  she  saw  him.  Being  all  in  ignorance  that 
people  of  immense  means  may  indulge  with  impu- 
nity peculiarities  a  poor  man  would  not  dare 
dream  of,  and  acquire  an  envied  reputation  for 
individuality  besides,  she  was  amazed  at  the 
contrast  between  himself  and  his  surroundings. 
Every  detail  spoke,  not  alone  of  the  most  lavish 
wealth,  but  also  of  the  most  unerring  and  culti- 
vated taste.  Had  she  not  been  accustomed  to  the 
grandeur  of  Hermersdorff,  she  would  have  been 
overwhelmed  at  the  evidences  of  luxury  displayed 
everywhere.  All  the  appointments  at  table  were 
of  the  most  costly  crystal  and  solid  silver.  There 
was  quite  a  large  party,  all  poor  relatives  of  the 
Goldmans  and  inmates  of  their  hospitable  man- 
sion. There  was  Hanne,  an  elderly  spinster,  who 
took  all  housekeeping  cares  off  Madame  Gold- 
man's hands.  She  was  a  second  or  third  cousin; 
somewhat  shrewish,  but  very  capable,  and  ruled 


120  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

the  large  staff  of  servants  with  an  unsparing 
hand.  Then  there  was  a  very  old  gentleman,  an 
uncle  of  Madame  Goldman's  from  the  maternal 
side,  who  took  snuff  with  a  trembling  hand,  spilled 
his  soup  over  his  napkin,  and  undertook  on  any 
and  every  occasion  the  role  of  cicerone  in  the 
Goldman  mansion.  There  were  two  or  three 
young  gentlemen  employed  in  the  bank,  receiving 
their  financial  training  there.  They  did  full  jus- 
tice to  the  lavish  and  excellent  dinner,  stared  a 
great  deal  at  Jette,  and  blushed  furiously  when 
the  younger  Goldman  glared  at  them  reprovingly. 
The  conversation  during  dinner  was  chiefly  car- 
ried on  between  father  and  son,  occasionally  joined 
in  with  vivacity  by  Madame  Goldman.  It  was 
an  unintelligible  jargon  to  Jette,  who  was  quite 
bewildered  at  the  fickleness  of  a  thing  they  called 
the  "boerse,"  which  seemed  to  gyrate  with  the 
unreliableness  of  a  shipwrecked  balloon  in  a  mad 
upward  or  downward  course.  She  felt  embar- 
rassed and  constrained,  and  was  glad  when  at 
last,  to  her  great  relief,  dinner  was  over.  Hanne 
and  the  young  gentlemen  disappeared,  and  the 
rest  went  into  the  adjoining  drawing-room.  Here 
she  was  pounced  upon  by  Uncle  Emanuel,  who, 
leaning  on  his  stick,  his  little  old  head  shaking 
with  palsy,  conducted  her  from  one  art  treasure 
to  another,  challenging  her  admiration,  and  stating 
with  the  accuracy  of  a  guide-book  the  different 
value  of  each. 

"Here,  look  at  this  group  by  Rubens.     Is  it 
not   '  famos  '  ?     Perhaps  you   don't  know  he  was 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  121 

a  great  painter,  —  one  of  the  greatest  the  world 
has  produced.  He  was  a  Hollander.  My  nephew 
paid  ten  thousand  thalers  for  it.  Fancy,  paying 
such  an  enormous  sum  for  a  single  picture.  He 
got  it  a  dead  bargain.  It  is  easily  worth  three 
times  as  much.  Just  think  of  it,  —  three  times 
as  much!"  bawled  Uncle  Emanuel,  in  his  thin, 
cracked  voice,  his  shaking  little  head  cocked  to 
one  side,  flourishing  his  stick  in  ecstasy.  "And 
here  's  a  vase  of  Parian  marble,  right  in  front  of 
you  on  this  pedestal.  Look  at  its  exquisite  work- 
manship. It  came  from  Pompeii,  —  Pompeii,  you 
know,  an  ancient  town  in  Italy,  which  was  buried 
by  an  earthquake  almost  two  thousand  years  ago. 
What  did  you  say  ?  Hey  ?  That  you  have  read 
all  about  it?  Well,  of  course  I  did  n't  know  you 
were  so  learned.  I  tell  you  that  cost  a  lot  of 
money.  Ach !  I  tell  you  it  would  make  you  rich, 
if  you  had  it.  But  it 's  easily  worth  a  great 
deal  more  than  we  paid  for  it.  There  is  nothing 
like  making  a  good  bargain.  Have  you  looked  at 
it  enough?  Ay,  admire  it,  do.  In  all  your  life, 
maybe,  you  will  never  see  anything  like  it  again. 
Do  you  notice  this  little  picture?  Well,  that 
little  oil  painting,  not  much  bigger  than  my  hand, 
—  have  you  any  idea  what  a  fabulous  sum  it  is 
worth?  It  is  by  one  of  the  great  Florentine 
masters,  and  represents  a  great  poet,  Tante  —  no, 
Dante,  I  think  they  call  him.  See  the  laurel 
wreath  around  his  ferow  "  — 

"Yes,"  interrupted  Jette  unguardedly,  "but 
this  is  not  the  original.  That  is  in  one  of  the 
famous  galleries  in  Italy." 


122  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"What!  "  screamed  the  old  man;  "not  the 
original  I  After  all  the  money  we  paid  for  it! 
Ach,  indeed!  I  low  comes  it  that  you  set  yourself 
up  for  a  judge?'* 

Jette  was  frightened  to  death  at  the  fury  she 
had  invoked,  and  the  taunting  sarcasm  of  the  old 
man's  voice.  Goldman  fils,  who  had  no  patience 
with  his  great-uncle's  vulgarity,  but  who  was 
eagerly  watching  to  see  what  impression  the  dis- 
play of  wealth  would  make  upon  this  unsophisti- 
cated country  girl,  now  sauntered  up  as  if  un- 
awares. For  him,  all  the  pictures  that  ever  were 
painted  had  not  as  much  interest  as  the  one  pre- 
sented by  the  decrepit,  bent  old  man,  trembling 
on  the  verge  of  the  grave,  and  the  blooming,  radi- 
ant vision  of  youth,  shrinking  away  from  him.  It 
gave  him  immense  pleasure  when  she  turned  to 
him,  with  every  sign  of  welcome  relief.  But  the 
old  man  still  scowled  at  her  in  high  displeasure. 

"Dost  know,"  he  said,  with  an  angry  sneer, 
"that  this  young  Fraulein  possesses  most  wonder- 
ful knowledge?  She  has  just  told  me  that  our 
pictures,  which  cost  more  money  than  she  ever 
saw,  or  ever  will  see  in  all  her  life,  which  people 
from  afar  come  to  see  and  admire,  are  what  she 
is  kindly  pleased  to  call  copies.  Copies!"  he 
added  with  angry  emphasis,  glaring  as  if  he  would 
gladly  annihilate  her. 

"Don't  mind  Uncle  Emanuel,"  said  Herr  Gold- 
man cheerfully.  "  'T  is  his  way,  but  he  means  no 
harm.  You  see  he  is  old  and  infirm,"  he  added, 
with  a  shrug.  He  took  the  old  man  by  the  arm, 


;j 


w^mllalr.    I  k»d  •> 


124  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"Yes,"  she  said;  "the  castle  is  within  easy 
distance  of  Neukirch.  The  Herr  Professor  spends 
part  of  the  holidays  there.  It  is  a  beautiful 
place." 

"And  you  know  them?  Indeed,  Fraulein  Ca- 
jena,  you  are  to  be  congratulated  upon  possessing 
such  friends." 

He  said  it  with  far  greater  respect  and  defer- 
ence than  he  had  shown  before.  It  was  plain  to 
see  she  had  acquired  vastly  more  importance  in 
his  eyes. 

"Everything  I  know  the  Fraulein  has  taught 
me,"  said  Jette,  with  emotion.  She  added  rev- 
erently, as  if  saying  a  prayer,  "God  bless 
her." 

She  went  over  to  Madame  Goldman,  who  was 
playing  soft,  pathetic  music.  She  always  played 
thus  after  dinner,  while  her  husband  lay  on  the 
sofa,  and  with  a  red  silk  handkerchief  over  his 
face,  snored  peacefully  and  contentedly.  Madame 
Goldman,  like  most  Viennese  women  of  the  high- 
est culture,  was  a  trained  musician.  It  was  not 
alone  her  perfect  technique,  but  her  wonderful 
understanding  and  feeling.  There  was  life  and 
heart  in  everything  she  played,  whether  it  was 
Beethoven  or  Strauss.  Perfect  mistress  of  har- 
mony, she  played  with  a  grace  and  skill  which 
made  her  completely  dominate  the  piano,  and 
would  have  made  her  famous  and  rich,  had  she 
been  compelled  to  earn  her  living.  Like  all  good 
players,  she  was  intensely,  passionately  fond  of 
music,  and  could  call  up  any  emotion  she  pleased. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  125 

As  Jette  came  up,  she  suddenly  broke  into  the 
entrancing  strains  of  the  waltz  king,  Strauss,  of 
whom  it  was  said  he  could  make  the  halt,  the 
lame,  and  the  decrepit  dance.  It  was  the  same 
music  the  band  had  played  on  the  public  prome- 
nade that  afternoon.  Jette,  who,  if  anything,  was 
born  to  dance,  who  could  never  keep  her  feet  still 
at  the  sound  of  the  most  cracked  old  fiddle,  was 
fairly  carried  away.  But,  indeed,  it  must  have 
been  a  codfish  who  could  have  listened  to  such  en- 
trancing strains,  played  by  such  a  spirited  master 
hand,  without  sending  the  feet  flying.  Before  she 
knew  it,  she  had  caught  Madame  Goldman's  fat 
pug,  who  lay  lazily  blinking  at  her  from  the 
depths  of  a  luxurious  armchair,  and  was  off  with 
him  around  the  room.  If  ever  the  young  banker 
cursed  his  deformity,  it  was  when  he  saw  Jette 
dance.  And  she  had  no  other  partner  than  the 
struggling,  yawping  little  beastie,  who,  having 
overcome  his  first  astonishment,  vented  his  out- 
raged dignity  in  a  succession  of  angry  snarls. 
Madame  Goldman,  seeing  him  sitting  there,  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  and  that  moody  expression 
on  his  face,  struck  a  few  skillful  chords,  and 
stopped. 

"Oh,  my  poor  Mops,"  she  said,  as  she  took 
the  angry  pug  from  the  breathless  girl's  arms; 
"what  outrage  have  they  done  thee?  Yes,  scold 
her,  scold  her !  "  she  said,  laughing,  as  the  highly 
insulted  little  beast  turned  upon  his  late  partner, 
and  lustily  barked  at  her. 

"  OA,  what  divine  music!"  said  the  girl;   "it 


126  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

will  haunt  me  all  the  summer.  How  I  wish  I 
could  learn  it  on  the  guitar." 

"Do  you  play  the  guitar? "  asked  Madame 
Goldman. 

"Oh,  no;  only  just  enough  to  accompany  my- 
self to  a  few  simple  songs." 

"You  sing,"  said  Madame  Goldman,  with  ani- 
mation; "I  thought  you  had  a  singing  voice. 
How  lovely!  Contralto,  is  it  not?  Yes,  I 
thought  so.  Here  we  all  have  voices  like  cawing 
rooks.  As  for  Julius,  he  has  not  an  atom  of  an 
ear.  He  would  insist  upon  joining  a  singing  so- 
ciety. One  conductor  died  of  consumption,  the 
second  ran  away,  and  the  third  hanged  himself. 
Ah,  here  is  Julius  with  the  guitar.  Sit  there  — 
there  where  I  can  see  you,  Liebchen.  Now  sing." 

If  Madame  Goldman  loved  to  play,  Jette  loved 
to  sing.  The  little  training  Thekla  had  given 
her  amounted  to  a  great  deal  with  a  voice  like 
hers.  At  first  diffident  and  shy,  she  soon  gained 
confidence,  and  let  her  pure  young  voice  soar 
over  the  vast  expanse  of  the  drawing-room.  It 
flooded  the  house  from  attic  to  cellar.  The  ser- 
vants came  out  into  the  hall  to  listen.  She  sung 
an  impassioned  love  song,  a  great  favorite  of 
Thekla's :  — 

"  Ask  the  roses  if  I  love  thee, 
Ask  the  roses,  thou  heavenly  maid." 

She  was  voicing  the  sentiments  of  the  banker's 
own  heart.  As  he  sat  and  watched  her,  entranced, 
he  felt  that  it  was  irrevocably  gone  out  of  his 
keeping  forever. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  127 

"You  have  a  splendid  voice,"  said  Madame 
Goldman.  "Heavens!  with  some  cultivation  and 
a  great  deal  of  practice,  what  could  not  be  made 
of  it!  Let  me  tell  you,  liebe  Kleine,  that  some 
years  hence  you  will  sing  that  passionate  song 
with  a  vastly  different  expression." 

She  herself  accompanied  her  to  her  room,  and 
embraced  her  in  farewell.  Madame  Goldman  was 
a  late  riser,  and  the  early  post-chaise  would  have 
borne  the  young  girl  hence  long  before  she  herself 
would  be  stirring. 

"Has  your  visit  been  pleasant,  little  one?" 
she  asked  caressingly.  "Oh,  but  you  need  not 
answer.  Your  eyes  express  enough.  Here  is  a 
letter  for  the  Herr  Pastor  you  must  give  him.  It 
is  my  wish  you  should  soon  come  again.  Will 
you?" 

"Oh,  how  good  you  are!  Indeed,  indeed,  I 
will,  if  the  Frau  Pastorin  will  let  me.  But  I 
cannot  come  till  the  summer  is  over.  There  is 
the  garden  to  take  care  of,  harvesting  at  which  I 
must  help,  and  —  indeed,  I  could  not  be  spared. 
But  in  the  winter  —  I  think  it  could  be  managed 
then.  Perhaps  I  can  bring  my  spinning-wheel 
and  knitting,"  she  added  anxiously. 

The  great  lady  laughed  and  patted  her  cheeks. 
She  took  the  brooch  she  wore  at  her  throat,  and 
fastened  it  in  the  girl's  white  lace  fichu. 

"Thou  wouldst  not  let  me  buy  anything  for 
thee,"  she  said,  lapsing  into  the  familiar  thee  and 
thou;  "now  thou  must  wear  this,  and  never  forget 
me  till  thou  comest  again." 


128  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"No,  no,"  said  Jette,  overcome  at  such  a  mag- 
nificent present;  "no,  no,  indeed,  I  dare  not  take 
it.  What  shall  I  do  with  such  a  valuable  thing 
as  that?  'T  is  far  too  grand  for  me." 

But  Madame  Goldman  only  laughed  again. 
"My  dear!  I  have  so  much  of  the  trash  lying 
around ;  't  is  a  relief  to  get  rid  of  some  of  it. 
Dear  little  one !  Auf  Wiedersehen !  we  shall  soon 
meet  again." 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

WHAT  rejoicing  there  was  when  Jette  returned 
home.  She  came  early  the  following  night.  The 
villagers  were  all  abed;  there  were  no  prying  eyes 
to  see  her.  How  strange  the  familiar  living-room 
looked,  with  its  sanded  floor,  even  after  so  short 
an  absence.  When  she  handed  the  package  of 
important  papers  to  Hans,  his  eyes  glistened,  and 
he  kissed  the  gracious  hand  which  gave  it,  with 
all  looking  on.  The  Herr  Pastor  patted  her 
under  the  chin  and  pinched  her  blushing  cheek, 
declaring  she  was  the  most  famously  discreet  little 
girl  in  the  whole  Rhine  province.  Of  course  she 
had  to  refresh  herself  with  coffee,  which  Babbett 
brought  in  presently,  and  though  supper  was  over 
long  ago,  they  all  sat  around  the  table,  each  tak- 
ing a  cup  to  keep  her  company. 

"Out  there  in  the  passage,"  said  Babbett,  pok- 
ing her  head  in  again,  "are  quite  a  lot  of  pack- 
ages. I  suppose  you  have  forgotten  all  about 
them,  Jette?" 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  129 

Of  course  she  was  dying,  poor  old  thing,  to 
know  what  they  contained.  The  everlastingly 
feminine  heart,  God  bless  it,  knows  full  well  that 
one  doesn't  go  to  town  without  indulging  in  some 
sort  of  shopping,  even  if  it  be  on  the  minutest, 
most  limited  scale. 

"My  presents!"  exclaimed  Jette,  darting  into 
the  hall,  from  which  she  emerged  with  her  arms 
full,  Babbett  carrying  the  rest.  The  Herr  Pas- 
tor's eyes  moistened  when,  with  a  great  deal  of 
pride  and  a  timid  blush,  she  gave  him  the  much- 
prized  handkerchief.  The  Frau  Pastorin  smiled 
with  pleasure  to  find  she  was  remembered,  and 
Babbett  went  fairly  wild  over  the  lovely  warm 
hood.  She  went  up  and  put  her  withered  lips  to 
the  girl's  soft,  blooming  cheek. 

"Thou  art  a  good  one,"  she  said,  in  her  direct, 
honest  manner;  "nay,  indeed  thou  hast  a  good 
heart.  But,  dear  Heaven,  Jette!  These  things 
cost  a  lot  of  money.  Where  didst  thou  get  it 
from?  Hast  thou  bought  nothing  for  thyself? 
And  what  is  in  this  large  box?  " 

"I  haven't  any  idea,"  she  said;  "Herr  Gold- 
man put  it  in  the  post-chaise  with  a  lot  of  deli- 
cious confectionery  after  I  had  taken  my  seat." 

"Herr  Goldman,"  cried  Hans  von  Czechy  and 
the  doctor  simultaneously. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  she  said;  "wasn't  it  kind  of 
him  ?  He  and  Hanne,  the  housekeeper,  took  me 
to  the  booking-office,  early  as  it  was,  and  never 
left  me  till  the  post-chaise  started.  A  footman 
followed  with  these  things.  I  told  Herr  Goldman 


130  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

there  must  be  some  mistake,  but  he  only  laughed, 
and  said  a  fairy  had  sent  them  overnight.  He 
reminded  me  about  the  confectionery,  or  I  should 
have  sat  down  on  it.  Oh,  it  was  delicious.  I  am 
afraid  I  have  eaten  every  bit  of  it." 

While  she  ran  on  in  her  happy,  unconcerned 
manner,  the  rest  looked  at  each  other  in  amaze- 
ment. 

"Which  of  the  bankers  did  you  see?"  asked 
the  Magyar,  with  a  lowering  brow. 

"  Oh,  I  saw  both  of  them  —  the  younger  one  at 
first,  of  course  —  Herr  Julius  Goldman,  at  the 
bank,  who  was  very  gracious,  I  assure  you.  The 
old  gentleman  I  met  at  the  house  —  Thou  dear 
Heaven!  I  never  would  have  taken  him  for  a 
rich  banker.  Oh,  look,  look !  Did  ever  any  one 
see  anything  so  extravagant?  Bonbons!  this 
whole  immense  thing  full,  and  what  a  beautiful 
box!  lined  with  pink  satin,  embroidered  all  over 
in  gold.  Actually!  I  never,  never,  even  in  my 
dreams,  saw  anything  half  so  magnificent.  I 
really  must  run  out  to  the  kitchen  and  show  it  to 
Babbett." 

"She  has  seen  that  red-headed  satyr,"  said  the 
Magyar  furiously,  in  an  undertone  to  the  doctor; 
"of  course  he  has  fallen  in  love  with  her  —  male- 
dictions on  him !  " 

Out  into  the  passage  the  pastor  was  calling, 
"Come  back,  chatter-pate.  Now  sit  down  like 
a  sensible  girl,  and  tell  us  everything  that  has 
befallen  thee  since  thou  leftest  home."  So  she 
gave  a  detailed  account  of  everything  that  had 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  131 

happened.  And  as  she  ran  on,  perfectly  uncon- 
scious of  the  sensation  she  created,  Hans  von 
Czechy  looked  at  the  doctor,  and  the  doctor  looked 
at  him.  She  had  tears  in  her  eyes,  when  she 
spoke  of  Madame  Goldman's  graciousness.  Then 
she  dived  into  her  pocket,  and  handed  the  Herr 
Pastor  the  letter  intrusted  to  her  care. 

"Here  is  the  lovely  brooch  she  gave  me,"  she 
said,  taking  it  from  among  the  folds  of  her  bodice. 
"I  put  it  there  for  safe  keeping,  for  I  did  not 
dare  wear  it,  for  fear  of  losing  it.  Is  n't  it  mag- 
nificent !  a  great  deal  too  grand  for  me,  I  am  sure. 
Will  you  please  take  care  of  it,  Frau  Pastor  in, 
until  I  am  grown  up  ?  or  perhaps  —  perhaps  you 
would  n't  mind  wearing  it  yourself.  It  is  far 
more  suitable  for  you  than  for  me." 

The  Frau  Pastorin  took  it,  with  a  smile  and 
a  beaming  eye.  "Certainly  I  will  take  care  of 
it  for  thee,"  she  said.  "I  will  wrap  it  in  some 
fine  wadding,  and  put  it  away  in  a  box  under 
safe  lock  and  key.  Thou  wilt  be  very  glad  and 
very  proud  to  wear  it  when  thou  art  old  enough  to 
appreciate  such  things." 

"Now  thou  must  go  to  bed,"  said  the  Herr 
Pastor;  "it  is  very  late,  and  thou  must  be  very 
tired.  There  are  a  great  many  things  to  be  at- 
tended to  during  the  short  time  that  remains 
before  our  guests  leave  us.  Go  and  take  some 
necessary  rest." 

"Fraulein  Jettchen,"  said  Hans,  "I  shall  never 
forget  the  great  service  you  have  done  for  me. 
In  my  heart  and  my  memory  it  will  live  forever. 


132  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

If  ever  the  time  should  come,  you  shall  learn  that 
the  von  Czechys  know  how  to  be  grateful." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  meaning  in  his  impas- 
sioned eyes  which  brought  the  blood  to  her  neck 
and  face. 

"No,  no,"  she  said  confusedly,  "I  only  did  as 
the  Herr  Pastor  told  me."  With  a  hasty  good- 
night she  ran  up  to  her  room. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  next  morning  Fraulein  von  Hermersdorff 
drove  up.  She  had  returned  from  Silesia  the 
night  before,  and  lost  no  time  in  running  up  to 
the  parsonage.  It  was  easy  to  see  how  she  re- 
gretted her  absence  during  the  doctor's  and  his 
friend's  stay.  She  knew  Hans  very  well,  and 
insisted  upon  showing  him  some  hospitality, 
though  both  he  and  his  friend  were  really  on  the 
eve  of  departure. 

"How  sorry  I  am!"  she  said;  "really,  papa 
will  be  inconsolable.  To  think  that  once  in  a 
hundred  years,  perhaps,  I  go  away  from  home, 
and  then  it  must  just  happen  when  one  would 
most  wish  one  had  remained." 

"Most  gracious  Fraulein,"  said  Hans,  kissing 
the  pretty  plump  hand  she  extended  to  him,  "you 
have  no  idea  what  a  lucky  escape  you  have  had. 
We  have  run  wild  here,  so  to  speak,  and  most 
devoutly  thankful  our  dear  entertainers  must  be 
to  get  rid  of  us." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  133 

"'T  is  a  most  wholesome  disturbance,  then," 
she  said  gayly ;  "  one  could  easily  put  up  with  it 
for  a  lifetime.  We  know  each  other  too  well, 
dear  baron,  that  you  should  waste  pretty  speeches 
on  me.  Now  I  have  a  plan.  To-morrow  you 
must  give  up  to  me  absolutely.  We  will  have  a 
picnic,  a  right  merry  old-fashioned  one.  You 
must  all  come.  'T  is  no  use  to  shake  your  heads 
and  look  at  each  other.  What  I  will,  I  will ;  you 
know  that  of  old." 

Really,  she  was  irresistible.  She  knew  how  to 
dominate  people;  from  her  cradle  upwards  she 
had  done  nothing  else.  Thekla  was  twenty  now, 
but  save  a  more  pronounced  dignity  of  bearing 
and  added  distinction  in  manner  and  appearance, 
she  was  the  same  petite,  sparkling,  vivacious, 
dark  sprite  of  three  years  ago.  Her  "cultivated 
heart,"  as  the  pastor  called  it,  shone  out  of  her 
happy  dark  eyes.  She  was  so  easy  and  unconven- 
tional in  all  she  did  or  said  that  one  quite  forgot 
the  heiress  and  the  position  she  occupied  in  the 
world,  though  none  knew  more  perfectly  than 
herself  how  to  crush  presumption  or  officiousness. 
No  wonder  the  Frau  Pastorin  was  anxious  for  her 
son  to  marry  her.  He  would  gain  at  one  bound 
what  it  is  given  to  very  few,  even  under  the  most 
favorable  circumstances,  to  acquire  in  a  lifetime : 
honor,  riches,  a  most  enviable  place  in  society,  and 
above  and  best  of  all,  a  charming,  most  desirable 
companion  for  life.  Truly,  an  enviable  lot  for  any 
man,  when  even  most  exceptionally  favored  of  the 
gods.  The  Frau  Pastorin  desired  above  all  things 


134  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

that  Fritz  should  settle  his  fate  definitely  before  he 
went.  It  was  patent  to  all  eyes  that  Thekla  loved 
him.  They  had  grown  up  as  children  together, 
and  had  hardly  had  a  joy  or  grief  apart.  If  Fritz 
had  any  sense,  he  would  speak  now.  He  would 
be  gone  at  least  three  years;  he  could  not  expect 
a  girl  like  the  heiress  of  Hermersdorff  to  wait  for 
him  forever.  Ah,  what  a  joyful  wedding  there 
would  then  be  on  his  return!  How  gladly  the 
Frau  Pastorin  would  bear  this  long  parting,  which 
otherwise  she  felt  would  almost  break  her  heart ! 
Three  years  is  a  long  time,  —  yes,  indeed,  quite 
an  eternity  for  those  who  have  to  fold  their  hands 
and  watch  and  wait  through  it  all.  And  then 
there  are  so  many  temptations  for  a  young  man, 
especially  on  the  continent  in  gay  Vienna,  where 
Fritz  will  study  most  of  the  time.  Though  he  is 
not  a  lady's  man, — no,  indeed;  in  fact,  he  is 
quite  unimpressionable,  his  ideals  are  so  high; 
heart  and  soul  he  is  wrapped  up  in  his  profession. 
He  is  going  to  accomplish  great  things,  —  oh, 
very,  and  come  back  a  professor,  maybe.  She 
dare  wager  he  has  not  once  thought  of  a  woman. 
That  is  quite  right,  of  course;  he  has  been  too 
much  engaged  in  earnest  study  to  fritter  away 
his  time  in  idle  gallantries.  It  has  so  long  been 
tacitly  understood  that  as  soon  as  he  had  made 
a  position  for  himself  he  would  marry  Thekla; 
really,  he  must  speak  now.  She  must  find  an 
opportunity  to  leave  them  together. 

"Indeed,"  said  Thekla,  "this  last  day  of  all  we 
must  make  up  for  everything.     We  will   spend 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  135 

the  whole  day  in  the  open.  You  remember  that 
lovely  glade  near  the  old  Schloss,  Herr  Doctor, 
where  we  once  lost  ourselves  as  children?" 

Since  they  were  both  grown  up,  her  modesty 
would  not  allow  her  to  treat  him  in  the  old  famil- 
iar manner.  She  always  called  him  Herr  Doctor 
now. 

"Oh,  yes,  indeed,"  he  said,  smiling;  "we  fan- 
cied we  were  another  pair  of  babes  in  the  wood, 
and  waited  patiently  for  the  birds  to  cover  us 
with  the  traditional  leaves.  But  as  they  were 
too  stupid,  or  too  much  engrossed  with  their  own 
affairs,  we  decided  to  gather  them  ourselves.  I 
rather  think  you  were  quite  disappointed  we  were 
rescued  before  nightfall." 

She  blushed  and  laughed.  "It  is  a  heavenly 
place,"  she  said;  "just  the  spot  for  a  picnic. 
We  will  pack  hampers  and  send  the  servants  in 
advance.  Our  old  Trudel  shall  bring  his  fid- 
dle. I  will  send  word  to  everybody  on  my  way 
back.  It  will  be  charming.  Something  of  a  sur- 
prise, of  course.  That  will  make  it  all  the  mer- 
rier. I  can  fancy  their  faces  when  they  will  hear 
of  it.  They  will  grumble  and  say,  '  Just  like 
Thekla. '  All  the  same,  they  will  come.  No  one 
shall  be  left  out.  The  old  Fraulein  von  Sprech- 
nau,  the  doctor's  wife,  the  attorney's  daughter,  — 
if  I  did  not  ask  them,  they  would  feel  sore  about 
it.  There  will  be  a  lovely  moon  at  night.  We 
will  dance  on  the  green.  Oh,  everybody  must 
come." 

The  Frau  Pastorin  was  delighted.     She  would 


136  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

have  preferred  to  have  Fritz  all  to  herself,  this 
last  day  of  his  stay.  But  the  opportunity  was  too 
propitious.  She  wondered  if  there  was  not  some 
design  in  it.  Certainly,  if  so,  she  would  speed  it 
with  all  her  heart. 

"We  will  all  come,"  she  said,  "and,  as  you 
say,  spend  a  long,  happy  day  together.  Ah,  I 
see  Henriette  in  the  garden.  I  must  go  and  tell 
her." 

"I  thought  Jettchen  was  at  the  Wildhof,"  said 
Thekla.  Involuntarily,  she  glanced  at  the  doctor. 
His  face  was  crimson.  He  turned  his  back  to 
the  window  and  said  quietly,  "She  will  not  be 
banished  again  on  my  account." 

"I  will  go  and  bring  Fraulein  Jettchen  to  you," 
said  Hans,  with  alacrity;  "she  will  be  delighted 
to  hear  you  are  returned." 

He  vaulted  lightly  through  the  open  window, 
and  yodled  as  gayly  as  the  most  light-hearted 
Swiss  mountaineer.  The  doctor  turned  round 
again. 

"Dear  child,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin,  "you 
know  absolutely  nothing,  then,  of  all  the  exciting 
events  which  have  happened  here  of  late?  Then 
I  will  leave  it  to  Fritz  to  tell  you.  I  must  run 
into  the  kitchen  to  speak  to  Babbett." 

But  the  doctor  made  a  very  distrait  narrator. 
His  glance  continually  wandered  to  the  garden, 
from  where  the  sound  of  joyous  voices  and  laugh- 
ter floated  upward.  Hans  and  Jettchen  were 
there,  of  course.  The  tall  lilac  bush,  in  which 
the  nightingale  sang  to  her  mate  at  night,  hid 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  137 

them  from  view.  Thekla's  gayety  of  expression 
became  sober  and  thoughtful,  as  she  noticed  the 
doctor's  wandering  glances. 

"Shall  we  not  go  and  join  them?"  she  said. 
"It  is  so  much  pleasanter  out  among  the  flowers. 
Herr  von  Czechy  seems  to  have  forgotten  his  in- 
tention to  tell  Jettchen.  Do  you  not  think  she 
has  changed  very  much? " 

"I  scarcely  remember  her  from  the  first,"  he 
said;  "though  who  would  not  improve  under  such 
able  tutelage  as  yours?" 

But  she  did  not  smile  in  return.  When  they 
reached  the  truants,  Hans  was  bending  over  Jette, 
trying  to  extract  a  thorn  from  her  finger.  His 
head,  with  its  abundance  of  curly  black  hair,  was 
very  near  her  own.  She  was  moaning  in  a  sort 
of  inarticulate  manner,  very  much  like  a  dumb 
animal  in  pain.  The  doctor  made  a  hasty  stride 
forward. 

"What  is  this?"  he  said. 

"Now,"  said  the  Magyar,  astonished,  "thou 
needest  not  knock  me  over  in  thy  professional 
zeal.  After  all,  I  must  yield  the  patient  to  thee. 
'T  is  an  ugly,  long  thorn,  and  so  deeply  imbedded 
in  the  delicate  flesh  thou  wilt  have  to  use  one  of 
the  pretty  baubles  thou  carriest  around  with  thee 
to  get  it  out." 

As  he  reluctantly  made  way,  Jette  saw  Thekla. 
She  snatched  away  the  hand  the  doctor  had  just 
taken,  and  flew  towards  her. 

"Dear,  dear  Fraulein,  you  here?  But  this  is  a 
delightful  surprise !  When  did  you  come  ?  " 


138  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"Dear  Jettchen,"  she  said,  "dear  child.  But 
when  wilt  thou  stop  growing?  Already  thou 
lookest  down  upon  me.  Did  not  Herr  von  Czechy 
tell  thee  I  was  here?  He  went  out  to  fetch 
thee." 

"He  never  told  me  a  word,"  said  Jette  plain- 
tively. 

Hans  looked  guilty,  but  he  laughed.  "You 
gave  me  no  time,"  he  said.  "I  had  just  opened 
my  mouth  to  speed  the  words  when  you  ran  the 
thorn  into  your  finger.  Then,  of  course,  the 
words  lost  themselves.  I  think  you  are  very  un- 
grateful, Fraulein.  I  have  broken  my  nails  try- 
ing to  pull  the  ugly  thing  out.  My  very  teeth 
are  blunt." 

"So  you  used  your  teeth,  too,"  said  the  doctor 
dryly.  "That  doubtless  is  the  reason  we  heard 
you  both  laugh  so.  You  have  been  here  at  least 
half  an  hour.  Has  the  thorn  been  in  so  long?" 

"How  he  has  kept  count  of  the  time!  "  thought 
Thekla.  She  watched  him  as  he  took  hold  of 
the  wounded  hand.  Though  brave  enough  in  all 
other  things,  Jette  could  not  bear  physical  pain. 
She  shuddered  and  cowered  before  it  in  nameless 
terror.  The  Herr  Pastor  said  it  would  always  be 
so.  It  was  the  result  of  that  terrible  time,  but 
for  which  she  might  never  have  crossed  the  par- 
sonage threshold. 

"Nay,"  said  the  doctor,  looking  at  her;  "how 
can  any  one  make  so  much  ado  about  such  a  trifle ! 
Steady  now,  one  moment.  I  will  have  it  out  in 
a  trice." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  139 

"It  hurts,"  she  said.  "It  hurts,"  she  repeated, 
looking  at  him,  her  lips  quivering,  her  eyes  full 
of  tears. 

"I  will  not  hurt  you,  Jettchen,"  he  said.  Ah, 
the  tone  in  which  he  said  it !  An  icy  chill  struck 
Fraulein  von  Hermersdorff's  heart.  She  stooped 
down  hastily  to  pick  a  spray  of  mignonette.  He 
drew  a  little  leather  case  from  his  pocket,  and 
selected  a  small  instrument.  Jette  shrieked,  and 
hid  her  hand  in  the  folds  of  her  dress. 

"Give  me  your  hand,"  he  said.  It  was  the 
physician  now  who  spoke.  Slowly,  with  her  eyes 
fixed  on  his,  she  drew  it  forth. 

"You  must  not  tremble  so,"  he  said;  "this  way 
I  can  do  nothing."  He  flung  his  arm  around  her, 
held  the  hand  in  his  firm  clasp,  and  in  a  trice, 
swiftly  and  dexterously,  he  had  the  thorn  out. 
The  blood  gushed  forth  and  spattered  itself  over 
his  fingers. 

"There,"  he  said,  smiling,  "that  did  not  hurt 
badly,  eh?  Kun  into  the  house  and  bathe  the 
hand.  I  will  bind  it  up  presently.  To-morrow 
it  will  be  all  right  again." 

The  Frau  Pastorin  now  came  up.  "You  will 
stay  to  dinner?"  she  said  to  Thekla. 

"No,  no,"  she  said  hastily;  "I  have  so  much 
to  do  yet.  Indeed,  indeed,  you  are  very  kind, 
and  I  should  be  delighted  to  accept.  But  papa 
is  waiting  for  me,  —  besides,  if  our  little  feast  is 
to  come  off  to-morrow,  't  is  surely  high  time  I  let 
everybody  know." 

They  all  accompanied  Thekla  to  the  gate,  and 


140  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

saw  her  drive  off.  Jette  came  running  out  with 
her  hand  in  a  napkin.  But  contrary  to  Thekla's 
usual  custom,  she  did  not  turn  round  to  smile  and 
wave  her  hand.  The  Frau  Pastorin  looked  at  her 
son. 

"Fraulein  von  Hermersdorff  did  not  seem  in 
her  usual  good  spirits,"  she  said;  "Fritz!  has 
anything  happened?  " 

"Anything  happened!"  he  repeated  in  amaze- 
ment; "why,  what  should  happen,  mamma?" 

Then  he  had  not  spoken.  A  longing  came  over 
her  to  box  his  ears.  Such  obtuseness  was  crimi- 
nal. But  patience!  He  surely  would  declare 
himself  on  the  morrow.  Yes,  of  course.  That 
was  it.  In  restored  good  humor  she  went  in  with 
the  rest  to  dinner. 


CHAPTER  XX 

IF  ever  a  fair  vision  dawned  on  the  charmed 
beholders'  gaze,  it  surely  was  Jette  on  the  follow- 
ing morning.  True  child  of  the  joyous  Ehine- 
land,  she  delighted  in  music,  dancing,  or  anything 
that  promised  exhilaration  to  the  spirits.  She 
was  going  to  dance  to-day  —  really,  what  would 
life  be  without  it?  For  her  part,  she  would  be 
content  with  just  a  crust,  provided  she  could  keep 
step  to  some  joyous  rhythm.  She  felt  as  if  she 
had  danced  into  life,  and  some  time  when  she  had 
grown  very,  very  old,  she  would  dance  out  of  it. 
So  when  all  were  ready,  she  came  down  in  her 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  141 

white  muslin  dress,  modestly  draped  with  a  lace 
frilled  fichu,  the  ruffled  elbow  sleeves  revealing 
the  arms  partially  covered  with  white  silk  mittens, 
low-cut  shoes,  fastened  with  a  big  buckle  in  the 
middle,  and  the  large  white  leghorn  hat  with  the 
ox-eyed  marguerites,  which  had  so  charmed  Herr 
Goldman,  shading  the  sweet,  lovable  face.  She 
was  so  joyfully  excited,  her  eyes  sparkled  in  such 
happy  anticipation,  and  her  cheeks  had  such  an 
enticing  bloom  that  Hans  gazed  and  gazed,  as  if 
he  could  never  feast  his  eyes  enough.  The  Frau 
Pastorin  examined  her  critically,  and  thought  she 
would  do.  The  Herr  Pastor  beamed  through  his 
spectacles,  lifted  her  chin  with  his  forefinger,  — 
his  invariable  custom  when  pleased,  —  and  de- 
clared with  an  astonishment  which  positively  was 
quite  nai'v.e  that  "really,  it  almost  looked  as  if 
Jettchen  was  growing  up."  The  doctor  placed 
himself  opposite  her  in  the  Jagdwagen,  or  hunt- 
break,  Thekla  had  sent,  and  took  hold  of  her  hand 
to  see  if  it  was  really  quite  healed.  Hans  groaned, 
and  wished  he  was  in  the  "codfish's"  place.  He 
would  not  have  let  go  of  that  beloved  hand  for 
the  rest  of  the  drive. 

Everybody  was  already  on  the  grounds  when 
they  arrived.  And  the  way  every  one  went  about 
enjoying  himself  was  worthy  of  the  occasion  and 
the  surroundings.  It  was  indeed,  as  Thekla  had 
said,  an  ideal  spot.  Moss-like  turf,  noiseless 
and  soft  as  a  velvet  carpet,  wherever  one  stepped; 
wild  flowers  of  all  imaginable  colors;  immense 
trees,  whose  interlacing  branches  formed  a  natural 


142  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

canopy  overhead;  below,  the  shimmering  Rhine, 
beckoning  a  gracious  invitation  to  its  placid 
bosom.  The  joyous  orchestra  of  the  birds  accom- 
panied the  merry  strains  Trudel  played  on  his 
fiddle.  Jette  danced,  it  made  no  difference  who 
asked  her.  She  danced  with  the  old  retired  Major 

von    B ,   and    told   him    breathlessly    it    was 

perfectly  charming  how  young  old  people  could 
be.  She  danced  with  his  grand-nephew,  a  lad 
about  her  own  age,  who  devoted  himself  to  her 
so  assiduously  that  it  prevented  her  from  noticing 
what  otherwise  could  not  have  escaped  her  obser- 
vation. The  local  doctor's  wife  and  the  attorney's 
daughter  were  whispering  all  the  time,  and  direct- 
ing the  most  malevolent  glances  towards  her.  As 
chance  would  have  it,  they  were  her  vis-a-vis  in 
the  same  quadrille.  They  elevated  their  noses  in 
a  very  haughty  manner  indeed,  looked  over  her 
head  when  chasseeing  to  each  other,  and  in  the 
ladies'  chain  drew  away  their  hands  in  such  an  os- 
tentatiously insulting  manner  that,  astonished  and 
confused,  Jette  entirely  lost  her  presence  of  mind. 
She  knew  how  to  dance  well  enough,  —  every 
Rhinelander  knows  that  by  instinct.  But  she  had 
attended  the  village  classes,  where  an  itinerant 
dancing-master  taught  every  winter.  With  the 
groschen  the  Frau  Pastorin  put  in  the  big  balls 
of  knitting  yarn  to  stimulate  her  industry,  she 
had  paid  for  her  lessons.  She  looked  forward  to 
them  all  the  year  round,  and  shivered  many  a  cold 
night  in  her  room,  burning  the  candle  ends  while 
the  rest  of  the  household  slept  the  sleep  of  the 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  143 

unsuspecting,  a  book  on  the  little  deal  table  before 
her,  while  the  needles  flew  in  and  out,  fast  and 
furious,  to  get  at  the  coveted  coin  at  the  bottom 
of  the  slowly  diminishing  ball  of  wool.  If  she 
lacked  the  elegance  and  finish  of  the  more  polished 
town  circles,  she  certainly  danced  with  all  possible 
natural  grace,  and  an  enthusiastic  enjoyment  which 
made  one  smile.  The  behavior  of  her  vis-a-vis 
took  her  entirely  by  surprise.  She  wondered  if 
she  had  unintentionally  done  or  said  anything  to 
make  them  act  so  strangely.  When  the  dance 
was  over,  her  partner  left  her  to  fetch  something. 
For  a  moment  she  stood  alone,  with  her  two  ene- 
mies beside  her.  She  thought  it  would  be  only 
good  manners  to  apologize  for  the  confusion  she 
had  caused  in  the  quadrille. 

"I  am  sorry,"  she  said  timidly,  "I  danced  so 
badly.  I  don't  know  what  made  me  forget  the 
different  figures." 

The  doctor's  wife,  whose  back  was  towards  her, 
looked  over  her  shoulder,  and  surveyed  her  with 
a  long,  haughty  stare  of  astonishment.  Jette  felt 
as  if  boiling  hot  water  was  running  down  her 
spine,  as  this  glance  first  took  in  her  head,  then 
slowly,  with  impressive  scorn,  ended  at  her  feet. 
Then  the  lady,  fully  and  ostentatiously,  as  if  she 
could  not  sufficiently  emphasize  her  contempt, 
turned  round  once  more.  But  now  Hans  was 
dancing;  a  wide  circle  had  been  formed.  Trudel 
had  struck  up  the  Czardas.  Before  he  had  grown 
so  old  that  his  wandering  footsteps  craved  a  per- 
manent rest,  and  anchored  him  safely  at  Hermers- 


144  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

dorff,  he  had  traveled  in  many  lands.  He  had 
seen  the  Hungarians  at  their  native  dance,  and 
now  he  played  with  a  fire  and  animation  which 
fairly  brought  the  impressionable  Hans  to  his  feet. 
At  first  he  danced  in  even,  measured  rhythm,  then 
faster,  ever  faster,  —  the  fiddle  fairly  cracked  itself 
in  passionate  rejoicing.  Jette,  watching  him  with 
sparkling  eyes,  forgot  momentarily  her  trouble, 
and  in  the  excess  of  her  transports,  clapped  her 
hands,  and  laughed  aloud. 

"What  does  the  Jewess  know  about  dancing?" 
said  the  attorney's  daughter  to  her  companion 
scornfully.  "Is  not  her  behavior  that  of  an 
uncouth  rustic?  What  business  has  she  in  this 
distinguished  company,  any  way  ?  " 

"'Tis  an  insult  to  us  all,"  said  the  doctor's 
wife,  carefully  drawing  her  skirts  away  from  any 
possible  contact  with  the  girl  who  stood  beside 
her.  "  She  ought  to  be  sent  to  her  native  ghetto, 
where  she  belongs.  The  impudent  chit!  to  dare 
to  speak  to  me,  as  if  I  were  of  her  own  kind. 
'Tis  easy  to  see  she  picked  up  her  dancing  in 
the  Wirthshaus  of  a  Sunday  afternoon,  prancing 
around  with  Jackel  and  Peter,  and  all  the  rest  of 
them,  the  impudent  Jewess." 

The  blood  rushed  in  a  torrent  to  the  young 
girl's  head.  She  thought  surely  it  must  gush  out 
of  her  mouth  and  eyes.  Then  she  turned  icy 
cold.  She  glanced  around  her.  Hans  was  still 
dancing.  Everybody  was  looking  on,  absorbed  in 
their  delight  and  interest.  One  glance  she  turned 
full  and  composedly  on  the  two  women.  It  was 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  145 

so  large,  so  grand  in  its  dignity,  that  their  own 
fell  involuntarily.  Then  she  slowly  turned  and 
left  the  grounds. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

TWILIGHT  was  descending  soft  and  fair.  Its 
holy  radiance  gave  a  benediction  to  the  parting 
day.  The  fairy  colors  of  the  afterglow  still  lin- 
gered in  the  sky.  It  was  the  hour  of  calm,  of 
rest,  and  of  peace,  soothing  the  troubled  spirit 
into  the  contemplation  of  higher  and  nobler  things 
beyond.  The  gate  of  the  parsonage  garden  clicked. 
Babbett,  who  had  just  come  out  of  the  poultry 
yard,  feeding  Jette's  doves  and  chickens,  looked 
up.  Minka,  who  had  accompanied  her,  gave  an 
expressive  purr.  Then  she  darted  towards  the 
newcomer,  who  took  her  up  and  cuddled  her  to 
her  breast.  It  was  Jette.  Not  as  she  had  gone 
forth  in  the  morning,  radiant  and  gay.  Her 
white  dress  hung  bedraggled  and  torn  around 
her.  The  large  straw  hat  was  pushed  from  her 
sunburnt  face.  She  limped  as  if  footsore.  Her 
aspect  was  one  of  thorough  fatigue  and  weariness. 

"Jesus  Maria!  "  cried  Babbett;  "what  has  hap- 
pened? How  comes  it  thou  arrivest  in  such  fash- 
ion, and  alone?" 

The  girl  did  not  answer.  The  muscles  of  her 
face  worked.  She  gulped  as  if  trying  to  swallow 
something  choking  her. 

"Wilt  thou  speak,  then?"  said  Babbett  wrath- 


146  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

fully;  "the  rest  —  where  are  they  —  why  hast 
thou  left  them?" 

"Thou  needest  not  worry  about  them,"  said  the 
girl.  She  had  limped  to  a  bench  at  the  back  of 
the  house,  and  flung  oft'  her  hat.  Now  she  gave 
a  long  sigh  of  relief.  Minka  rubbed  her  whiskers 
against  her.  Her  fur  was  shedding,  and  the 
girl's  neck  was  covered  with  it. 

"The  animal  knows  thou  art  in  trouble,"  said 
Babbett.  At  this  Jette  burst  out  crying.  She 
sobbed  so  that  the  bench  on  which  she  sat  shook 
with  the  weight  of  her  grief.  Babbett  seated  her- 
self beside  her,  and  laid  her  hard,  work-worn  hand 
on  the  girl's  arm.  She  was  of  a  hardy  peasant 
race,  not  given  to  sentiment  or  any  demonstration 
of  feeling;  but  she  had  a  heart  in  her  bosom,  and 
though  at  first  she  had  strongly  resented  Jette 's 
coming  into  the  family,  the  succeeding  years  had 
accustomed  her  to  look  upon  her  as  quite  one  of 
themselves.  She  was  growing  old,  and  the  girl 
was  a  great  help  to  her.  If  the  toothache  plagued 
her  in  the  cold  winter  nights,  Jette  would  not  allow 
her  to  get  up  in  the  morning,  but  blithely  and 
cheerfully  did  her  tasks  for  her,  brought  her  a 
cup  of  steaming  hot  coftee,  tripped  up  and  down 
the  steep  stairs  innumerable  times  for  warm  appli- 
cations, and  generally  took  care  of  her  in  the 
loving,  matter-of-fact  manner  in  which  life  went 
on  at  the  parsonage.  In  the  cold  weather  she  did 
all  of  the  out-of-door  work  for  her,  knitted  her 
warm  mittens  and  hoods,  and  gave  her  shawl  an 
extra  twist  so  she  should  look  nice  and  presentable 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  147 

when  she  went  to  hear  the  Herr  Pastor  preach  on 
a  Sunday.  She  grumbled  and  scolded  as  usual, 
and  showed  no  outward  sign  of  appreciation.  But 
she  was  as  fiercely  loyal  to  the  girl  as  to  the  family 
in  which  she  had  lived  almost  all  her  life,  and 
would  strongly  have  resented  any  harm  offered  to 
her. 

Jette  sobbed  on  as  if  her  heart  was  broken. 
She  was  so  thoroughly  a  child  yet !  The  consider- 
ation and  loving  regard  lavished  upon  her  lately 
made  her  the  more  susceptible  to  slights  of  any 
kind.  She  was  learning  the  inevitable  lesson 
which  two  thirds  of  us  experience,  that  the  fairest 
prospects  in  the  morning  are  blighted  before 
night. 

"Now,  now,"  said  Babbett;  "I  should  think 
thou  wouldst  have  done  by  now.  Look  at  thy 
slippers.  They  hardly  hold  together  by  the  straps. 
Hast  thou  walked  all  the  way,  then? " 

"Yes,"  said  the  girl,  "every  step.  In  the 
broiling  hot  sun,  too.  At  times  I  thought  I 
should  die;  but  I  did  not  care.  Oh,  how  glad  I 
am  to  be  home  again." 

"H'm!"  said  Babbett,  "that  must  have  been 
a  fine  walk  all  the  way  down  the  mountain,  with 
no  shade  whatever,  and  the  sun  right  in  thy  face. 
'Tis  six  good  leagues,  if  'tis  a  rod.  Do  the  rest 
know  thou  art  come  ?  " 

"I  cannot  tell.  I  left  them  all  there  quite 
happy.  Perhaps  they  will  not  find  out  I  am  gone 
till  'tis  time  to  go  home.  1  would  be  so  glad." 

"But  what  happened,  then,  to  make  thee  run 
away?" 


148  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  I  will  tell  thee  presently.  How  my  feet  ache ! 
Surely  they  must  be  full  of  holes ;  I  feel  as  if  I 
could  never  walk  any  more." 

Babbett  stooped  down  and  pulled  off  what  re- 
mained of  the  slippers.  "They  may  as  well  be 
flung  away,"  she  said,  "and  thy  stockings,  too. 
Everything  thou  hast  on  is  ruined." 

"  'T  was  my  dancing-school  dress,"  said  the  girl, 
full  of  grief,  "my  slippers  and  all.  The  Frau 
Pastorin  will  never  buy  me  another.  I  fear  she 
will  be  very  angry." 

The  old  woman  nodded  her  head.  "  What  thou 
hast  to  do  now,"  she  said,  "is  to  go  up  to  thy 
room  and  take  off  these  rags  before  she  sees  thee. 
I  will  bring  thee  some  warm  water  to  bathe  thy 
feet.  Thou  'It  be  all  well  as  soon  as  thou  hast 
composed  thyself." 

It  was  quite  the  old  Jette  who  sat  at  the  sit- 
ting-room window  half  an  hour  after.  She  had 
put  on  her  blue  gingham  dress,  newly  brushed 
and  coiled  the  glossy  black  hair,  and,  but  for  a 
slight  pallor  of  fatigue  quite  unusual  to  the  bloom- 
ing young  face,  looked  as  if  nothing  out  of  the 
way  had  happened.  The  lamp  on  the  big  centre 
table  burnt  low.  Her  eyes  ached  a  little,  and  she 
felt  too  tired  to  do  anything  but  to  sit  still.  A 
horse  came  dashing  down  the  village  street,  as  if 
it  had  been  hard  ridden.  Its  flanks  were  covered 
with  foam.  The  man  in  the  saddle  swung  him- 
self down,  and  eagerly  ran  up  the  graveled  walk 
to  the  house.  He  had  seen  the  quiet  figure  at 
the  open  window,  sitting  in  the  half  dusk.  In 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  149 

another  moment,  hot  and  breathless,  he  was  in 
the  room. 

"Thank  God,"  he  said,  "you  are  home!"  It 
was  the  doctor.  He  drew  a  chair  forward,  and 
sat  down  deep  in  the  shadow,  where  he  could  see 
the  light  fall  on  her  face.  She  was  softly  strok- 
ing Minka,  who  lay  full  length  in  her  lap.  Her 
head  leaned  in  languid  repose  against  the  red- 
cushioned  back  of  the  chair.  With  the  unusual 
pallor  in  her  face,  heightening  the  effect  of  her 
black  hair,  she  had  certainly  never  looked  more 
heavenly  fair.  He  folded  his  arms  across  his 
chest,  and  looked  at  her  so  long  it  would  have 
embarrassed  her,  had  she  not  been  so  tired. 

"When  did  you  reach  home?  "  he  asked. 

"A  little  over  an  hour  ago,  I  think.  'Twas 
just  after  sundown." 

"And  walked  all  the  way,  I  suppose?  " 

"Yes,  truly."  She  was  too  indolent  to  speak 
much.  She  did  not  even  wonder  why  he  was  there. 

"  What  made  you  do  it  ?  We  have  been  terri- 
bly anxious  about  you.  Some  one  suggested  you 
had  fallen  into  the  Rhine  and  drowned.  Every 
one  searched  for  you.  I  took  the  major's  horse 
and  came  home.  I  knew  I  should  find  you  here." 

"What  have  I  done?"  she  said,  wringing  her 
hands.  "I  never  intended  to  leave  you  in  anxiety. 
I  was  sure  you  would  know."  The  tears  were  in 
her  eyes  again,  ready  to  fall.  She  looked  at  him 
piteously.  He  strode  over  to  the  lamp  and  set  it 
flaring  high. 

"Come  here,"  he  said  peremptorily. 


150  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

He  spoke  in  the  same  tone  he  had  used  when 
he  pulled  the  thorn  from  her  finger.  She  hated 
to  get  up,  but  she  knew  she  would  have  to  obey. 
When  she  came  and  stood  in  front  of  him,  with 
head  hanging  down,  he  put  his  hand  under  her 
chin,  and  gently  raised  it.  She  did  not  want  to 
look  at  him,  but  she  felt  herself  compelled  to. 
Her  blue  eyes  gazed  into  his  brown  ones,  and  she 
could  not  withdraw  them.  He  read  all  he  wanted 
to,  and  a  great  deal  more.  Quietly  he  turned  the 
lamp  down  again. 

"You  certainly,"  he  said  cheerfully,  "have  the 
best  of  it  here.  See,  the  moon  is  rising  above 
the  firs.  How  peaceful  and  still  all  seems !  When 
I  am  very  tired,  —  as  you  are  now,  Jettchen,  —  I 
will  come  back  here  to  rest." 

"You  will  never  be  tired  from  the  same  cause 
as  I  am  now,"  she  said;  "people  will  all  be  kind 
to  you." 

"Humph!"  he  said.  So  that  was  it?  Some 
one  had  been  unkind  to  her.  "Don't  you  think," 
he  said,  "that  a  scene  like  this  impresses  itself 
on  a  man's  heart,  and  recalls  itself  as  an  oasis 
when  he  is  far  away  from  home  ?  I  shall  be  gone 
some  years,  you  know.  Where  will  you  be  when 
I  come  back?  " 

"Why,  here,  of  course,"  she  said.  She  opened 
her  eyes  wide,  and  laughed.  "Where  else  should 
I  be?" 

"At  Madame  Goldman's,  perhaps." 

"Will  the  Frau  Pastorin  let  me  visit  her?" 
she  said  eagerly;  "oh,  how  delightful!  " 


\ 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  151 

"Do  you  like  Herr  Goldman?"  asked  the  doc- 
tor brusquely. 

"Herr  Goldman!  Why,  I  never  thought  of 
him.  He  is  so  quiet  one  hardly  ever  notices 
him." 

"I  mean  the  son,  the  young  banker." 

"He  was  good  and  kind  to  me,"  she  said,  "but 
I  do  not  like  him  nearly  as  well  as  his  mother.  I 
feel  as  if  I  had  known  her  all  my  life." 

"Then  you  would  not  go  where  you  were  not 
received  with  open  arms,"  he  said. 

"No,"  she  said,  with  a  fierceness  which  was 
the  aftermath  of  the  day's  experience,  "I  would 
not.  I  will  not  obtrude  myself  where  I  am  not 
welcomed.  If  any  smile  at  me,  I  will  smile  back 
at  them.  If  they  offer  me  their  hand  in  friend- 
ship, I  will  give  them  mine  in  return.  Why 
should  we  scowl  and  fume  at  one  another  ?  Surely 
the  world  is  wide  enough  for  each  to  go  his  sepa- 
rate way." 

"How  comes  it,"  said  the  doctor,  "that  you  are 
such  a  philosopher  ?  Mature  views  like  these  are 
seldom  entertained  by  one  of  your  years.  I  am 
afraid  they  smack  somewhat  of  the  bookshelf." 

She  turned  very  red,  and  cast  a  half -frightened, 
half -steal  thy  look  towards  the  Herr  Pastor's 
library.  The  doctor  saw  it,  and  laughed. 

"Caught  again,"  he  said;  "last  time  it  was 
Heine,  now  it  is  half  a  dozen  musty  old  prosers, 
tangled  up  finely  in  that  young  brain  of  yours. 
Nay,  but  you  are  a  veritable  book-gobbler.  Such 
contraband  reading  may  be  very  hurtful  for  you." 


152  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"It  has  taught  me  a  great  deal,"  she  said 
defiantly. 

"H'm!  You  are  not  capable  of  judging  of 
that.  Older  heads  like  mine  may  see  a  great  deal 
of  harm  in  it." 

She  pouted  in  her  inimitably  enticing  fashion, 
and  tossed  her  head.  "You  are  not  so  very  old," 
she  said. 

"It  is  very  nice  of  you  to  think  so,"  he  said 
seriously;  "I  feel  as  old  as  a  patriarch." 

She  flashed  her  eyes  wide  open,  as  she  had  a 
trick  of  doing,  and  looked  at  him  quite  compas- 
sionately. Then  she  saw  the  twinkle  in  his  eye, 
and  laughed. 

"I  am  glad  you  are  joking,"  she  said;  "indeed, 
I  felt  very  sorry  for  you.  Only  people  who  have 
trouble  feel  old." 

"Were  you  sorry  for  me,  Jettchen?"  he  said. 

She  looked  up,  startled  at  his  tone  and  the 
sudden  fire  in  his  usually  half -veiled  eyes.  She 
recoiled  as  if  stung  by  a  whip. 

"Look  here,"  he  said,  quickly  lapsing  into  his 
usual  half -bantering  tone,  "I  have  discovered  so 
many  secrets  of  yours  I  feel  quite  guilty  in  con- 
cealing them  longer.  What  prevents  me  from 
going  to  my  mother,  and  warning  her  that  you 
are  on  the  high  road  to  perdition? " 

"Because  of  the  manhood  within  you,"  she  said. 
She  arched  her  neck  like  a  thoroughbred,  and 
looked  at  him  with  the  full  glory  of  her  eyes. 
"Truly,  it  would  be  a  fine  thing  for  you  to  turn 
telltale,  when  you  know  perfectly  well  that  any- 


A  TENT   OF  GRACE  153 

thing  you  wished  me  to  keep  secret,  not  ten  thou- 
sand horses  should  tear  from  me." 

"I  know  it,"  he  said.  "Thou  art  as  mettlesome 
as  a  war  steed."  Occasionally  he  lapsed  into  the 
familiar  thee  and  thou.  "But  being  a  man,  you 
see,  with  all  a  man's  selfishness  and  ingratitude, 
some  sort  of  a  bribe  is  due  to  me." 

"What  shall  I  give  you?"  she  said.  "I  have 
very  little.  Nothing  at  all,  I  am  sure,  that  you 
would  value." 

"That  depends,"  he  said,  "the  different  ways 
we  look  at  it.  You  could  give  me  something  I 
would  prize  very  highly,  and  you  would  never 
miss  at  all." 

"Yes?"  she  asked  anxiously;  "then  tell  me. 
If  you  must  have  something  not  to  carry  tales  to 
your  mother,"  she  added  disdainfully. 

"  Will  you  give  me  a  kiss, —  just  one  little  one  ?  " 
he  said.  His  eyes  were  almost  veiled  as  he  looked 
at  her. 

"  A  kiss ! "  she  ejaculated ;  "  a  kiss !  "  she  repeated, 
in  consternation.  She  looked  as  if  she  would 
sooner  have  expected  the  skies  to  fall.  She  threw 
back  her  head,  and  laughed.  "Why,  that  is  no- 
thing," she  said.  "You  shall  have  it,  if  that  is 
all  you  want." 

"Oh!  "  he  exclaimed.  He  flushed  darkly.  He 
hesitated.  "Do  you  value  your  kisses  so  little?" 
he  said. 

"Now  you  are  joking,"  she  said.  "What  can 
there  be  in  a  kiss  to  make  so  much  fuss  about? 
Except  my  mother,  I  never  kissed  anybody  in  my 
life." 


154  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

He  leaned  over  so  suddenly,  she  was  quite  taken 
unawares.  Before  she  knew  it,  his  long,  blonde 
mustache  had  swept  across  her  cheek.  Soft,  fiery 
lips  were  pressed  upon  her  own.  With  a  gesture 
of  anger  and  dislike,  she  swiftly  drew  back,  and 
passed  her  handkerchief  across  her  mouth. 

"I  don't  like  that,"  she  said;  "I  don't  like 
that!"  she  repeated  furiously,  stamping  her  foot. 
She  looked  daggers  at  him,  and  there  were  tears 
in  her  eyes. 

"What  is  there  in  a  kiss  to  make  so  much  fuss 
over?"  he  mocked,  with  aggravating  triumph. 
His  face  was  radiant,  and  he  laughed  when  she 
still  persistently  drew  the  handkerchief  across  her 
lips.  "You  can't  wipe  it  away,"  he  said;  "it  will 
stay  there  forever." 

She  threw  down  the  handkerchief  in  disgust. 
"I  will  never  kiss  anybody  again  in  my  life," 
she  said,  with  a  wry  face. 

"But  you  never  kissed  me.  'T  was  I  who 
kissed  you." 

"I  don't  care,"  she  said  angrily;  "'tis  all  the 
same." 

"Oh,  no,"  he  said,  "there  is  a  vast  difference. 
But  I  am  glad  that  after  this  you  will  not  hold 
your  kisses  so  cheap." 

"Never  in  my  life  will  I  allow  any  one  to  kiss 
me  again,"  she  repeated  vehemently. 

"That  is  right,"  he  said  cheerfully;  "by  all 
means  adhere  to  it.  When  I  come  back,  I  shall 
ask  you." 

"When  you  come  back,"  she  said  loftily,  "I 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  155 

shall  be  grown  up.  I  shall  then  have  forgotten 
all  about  it." 

"Then  I  will  recall  it  to  your  memory,"  he 
said ;  "  till  then  you  must  never  allow  any  one  to 
replace  it  with  another." 

"One  must  like  people,"  she  said  scornfully, 
"to  want  to  kiss  them.  I  am  sure  I  shall  never 
care  enough  for  anybody  to  do  that." 

"Not  even  me?  "  he  asked. 

"You !  "  she  exclaimed.  "How  can  any  one  like 
a  person  by  whom  one  is  detested?  Dear  Lord! 
Did  you  not  say  I  was  hideous?  Did  not  the 
Frau  Pastorin  have  to  send  me  away  to  the  Wild- 
hof ,  so  you  should  not  be  offended  at  the  sight  of 
me?  I  —  I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  stammered 
confusedly,  struck  by  his  changed  face;  "I  did 
not  mean  to  be  rude.  I  dare  say  I  did  not  look 
very  nice  just  then.  I  was  so  disfigured,  it  makes 
me  shudder  to  recall  it." 

The  doctor  made  a  hasty  step  forward.  Then 
he  stopped. 

"Don't  you  think  that  people  may  change?" 
he  asked  softly. 

"I  don't  care  whether  you  have  changed  or 
not,"  she  said,  with  that  sudden  transition  of 
mood  which  made  one  never  sure  of  her.  "You 
quite  broke  my  heart  that  time.  If  I  had  known 
you  were  going  to  kiss  me  like  that,  I  never  would 
have  let  you." 

She  ran  out,  slamming  the  door  after  her.  The 
doctor  stared,  whistled  softly,  and  with  a  smile 
curling  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  walked  to  the 
window.  Just  then  the  others  drove  up. 


166  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 


CHAPTEK  XXII 

THE  Frau  Pastorin  was  very  angry.  Such 
conduct  in  a  chit  of  a  girl  had  never  been  heard 
of.  To  run  off  from  a  merry-making,  leaving 
every  one  in  the  greatest  doubt  and  consternation 
concerning  her!  'Twas  the  last  day,  too,  of  the 
Herr  Baron's  and  Fritz's  stay  —  to  spoil  every- 
thing in  such  inconsiderate  fashion!  Under  the 
circumstances,  it  was  doubly  reprehensible.  Jette 
was  summoned  from  the  poultry  yard,  where  she 
had  gone  to  see  if  her  pets  were  safely  housed  for 
the  night.  She  came  in,  pale,  in  somewhat  of  a 
trepidation,  but  perfectly  calm. 

"'Tis  a  relief  to  find  thee  safely  home,"  said 
the  Frau  Pastorin  severely.  "No,  never  mind! 
Thou  needest  not  help  me  off  with  my  mantle. 
What  made  thee  run  off  in  such  unseemly  fashion, 
without  leaving  word  with  anybody?  " 

"Oh,  but  I  did,"  said  Jette;  "I  asked  the 
Fraulein  von  Sprechnau's  footman,  who  was  just 
then  repacking  the  hamper,  to  tell  you  that  I  had 
gone  home." 

"But  he  never  told  any  of  us  a  word,"  cried 
the  Frau  Pastorin;  "he  surely  must  have  seen  the 
distress  we  were  in." 

"Why  should  he  not  have  given  thy  message, 
Jettchen?"  asked  the  Herr  Pastor.  He  looked 
at  her  steadily.  Whenever  he  did  so,  she  knew 
the  full  truth  would  have  to  be  told. 

"I  cannot  imagine  any  reason,"  she  said,  "ex- 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  157 

cept  his  insolence.  When  I  asked  him  to  deliver 
my  message,  he  said  he  would,  if  I  gave  him  a 
kiss  for  a  Trinkgeld." 

"What!  "  ejaculated  the  Magyar  fiercely;  "but 
you  should  have  come  to  me,  Fraulein.  I  would 
have  pulled  the  wretch's  skin  over  his  ears." 

The  doctor  fingered  the  tips  of  his  mustache 
nervously.  "These  canaille,"  he  said,  "take  their 
cue  from  their  betters.  Some  one  must  have  been 
very  impertinent  to  you,  Jettchen." 

"I  did  not  think  he  was  in  earnest,"  she  said, 
evading  a  direct  reply;  "as  he  saw  me  go,  I  was 
sure  he  would  tell  the  Frau  Pastorin." 

"  But  you  have  not  told  us  the  reason  why  you 
left,"  said  the  Herr  Pastor. 

"You  were  all  enjoying  yourselves,"  she  said. 
"I  did  not  want  to  spoil  your  pleasure.  It  was 
just  when  Herr  von  Czechy  was  dancing.  The 
Frau  Doctorin  and  Fraulein  Schmidt,  the  attor- 
ney's daughter,  stood  close  beside  me.  They 
spoke  about  me  in  a  very  insulting  manner.  If 
they  had  spoken  to  me  direct,  I  would  not  have 
cared  so  much;  but  this  talking  at  me  gave  me 
no  excuse  to  answer.  I  turned  and  left  a  com- 
pany where  I  saw  I  was  not  wanted." 

"  Thou  dear  Heaven !  but  what  could  they  say 
about  thee?"  cried  the  Frau  Pastorin,  in  great 
agitation. 

She  kept  her  eyes  on  the  floor  for  a  moment. 
If  she  had  looked  at  any  one,  she  knew  she  must 
have  burst  into  tears.  The  Herr  Pastor  would 
not  have  liked  that.  She  knew  that  under  all 


158  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

circumstances  lie  wanted  her  to  show  self-con- 
trol. 

"They  said  I  had  no  business  there,"  she  said 
finally ;  "  that  I  was  a  Jewess,  and  had  no  right 
to  obtrude  myself  into  such  distinguished  com- 
pany. They  would  not  touch  my  hand  in  the 
quadrille."  She  asked,  with  a  gesture  both  proud 
and  pathetic,  "Is  there  any  need  to  say  any 
more?" 

"Now  may  the  thunder  crash!  "  cried  the  Frau 
Pastorin,  in  high  anger.  "They,  distinguished 
company,  indeed!  Why,  the  doctor's  wife  is  a 
butcher's  daughter  from  Gelsbach  "  — 

"Cattle-dealer,  Mammachen,"  interrupted  the 
Herr  Pastor  mildly. 

"Ah,  bah!  where 's  the  difference?  Cattle- 
dealer  or  butcher,  't  is  all  the  same.  And  as  for 
Fraulein  Schmidt  —  thou  dear  Heaven!  Her 
grandfather  trundled  a  wheelbarrow  on  her  grand- 
mother's farm,  and  when  her  first  husband  died, 
she  married  him.  'T  was  nothing  but  spite,  the 
rancorous  old  maid!  that  made  her  speak  thus," 
exclaimed  the  Frau  Pastorin  contemptuously. 

"Then  you  are  not  angry  with  me  for  leav- 
ing?" said  Jette  timidly. 

"Yes,  I  am, — very,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin 
energetically;  "thou  shouldst  have  come  to  me, 
above  all  things,  and  not  minded  what  those  two 
persons  said.  A  butcher's  daughter  and  a  peas- 
ant laborer's  grand-daughter  to  carry  matters 
with  so  high  a  hand,  forsooth!  Wait  till  I  see 
them  again.  But  I  will  rub  it  into  them !  " 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  159 

"Thou  must  not  be  so  susceptible,"  said  the 
pastor  to  Jette  reprovingly;  "as  thou  growest  older 
and  mixest  more  with  the  world,  thou  wilt  find 
that  envy,  hate,  malice,  will  find  the  weak  spot  in 
thy  armor,  and  mercilessly  take  advantage  of  it. 
One  has  only  to  prick  human  nature  to  find  how 
little  humanity  there  lies  beneath." 

"Can  I  help  being  a  Jewess?"  she  asked. 
"Why  should  they  scorn  me  because  of  it?" 

"Thy  religion,"  said  the  pastor,  in  his  resonant 
voice,  which  reached  far  and  wide  when  he  was 
greatly  in  earnest,  "concerns  no  one  but  thee. 
'Tis  something  alone  between  thee  and  thy  God. 
'T  is  not  a  thing  to  cavil  at,  or  to  cast  aside  be- 
cause of  the  sneers  of  others.  As  well  might 'st 
thou  pluck  out  an  eye,  or  hew  a  limb  from  thy 
body.  'Tis  part  and  parcel  of  thyself,  as  much 
as  the  blood  which  goes  to  nourish  thy  heart; 
nay,  more  so,  because  't  is  the  spiritual  part  of 
thee,  that  which  never  dies,  —  thy  passport  to  the 
Almighty  One,  who  knows  of  all  thy  doings.  'T  is 
a  thing  of  ancestry,  of  heredity,  of  circumstances. 
'T  was  born  with  thee,  and  will  abide  with  thee 
till  death.  'T  is  thy  sacred,  inalienable  right,  with 
which  the  other  has  naught  to  do.  Thou  wert 
born  a  Jewess,  and  wilt  die  a  Jewess,  and  being 
such,  thou  art  naught  else  but  thyself.  Let  those 
look  to  it  who  would  cast  it  up  to  thee.  Thou 
canst  no  more  undo  it  than  curse  the  mother  who 
bore  thee  for  bearing  thee  so.  And  being  so, 
thou  must  rest  content  in  the  consciousness  of  thy 
birthright,  which  so  long  as  thou  actest  to  the 


160  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

utmost  of  thy  convictions  surely  gives  thee  the 
advantage  over  those  who  would  look  down  upon 
thee.  As  the  reputation  of  the  community  de- 
pends upon  the  behavior  of  the  individual,  so  the 
individual  has  often  the  sins  of  the  community  to 
shoulder.  Bear  thyself  always  that  no  blame  can 
attach  to  thee,  so  wilt  thou  best  disarm  criticism, 
which,  after  all,  depends  as  much  upon  the  indi- 
vidual as  education  and  environment." 

In  the  doctor's  room,  Hans  was  wrestling  with 
straps  and  portmanteaus  long  after  everybody  had 
gone  to  bed. 

"Lie  there,"  he  said,  giving  the  last  bag  a 
vicious  kick ;  "  thou  and  I  are  going  to  flee  from 
temptation  to-morrow. ' ' 

"Dost  thou  include  me  in  thy  amiable  rhap- 
sody?" asked  the  doctor,  yawning. 

"Holy  Maria!  thou!  thou  cold-blooded  cynic! 
Tell  me,"  he  burst  out  angrily,  "is  it  wise  of 
thy  father  to  make  such  a  martyr  of  that  girl? 
'T  would  all  be  very  fine  and  quite  proper  among 
her  own  people.  But,  dear  Heaven!  she  has  a 
heart,  I  suppose,  like  the  rest  of  us,  and  one  day 
she  will  find  it  out.  What  will  she  do,  then?  " 

"Give  it  to  Herr  Goldman,  of  course." 

"I  would  like  to  fling  thee  out  of  the  window. 
Scoffer!  Oh,  only  wait!  One  of  these  days  I 
will  crow  over  thee.  Fritz!  dost  thou  not  see 
how  wretched  her  life  must  be,  if  she  fall  in  love 
with  some  one  not  of  her  own  persuasion?" 

The  doctor  was  leaning  far  over  the  window 
sill.  The  moon  was  rapidly  on  the  wane.  But 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  161 

for  the  feeble  light  of  the  solitary  candle,  the 
room  was  in  semi-darkness.  A  dove  occasionally 
stirred  and  cooed  drowsily.  The  scent  of  the 
mignonette  and  jasmine  floated  in  at  the  window. 
The  earth  exhaled  the  peculiar  dampness  charac- 
teristic of  the  midnight  hour.  Out  on  the  tall  lilac 
bush  the  nightingale  had  just  begun  her  plaintive 
fluting.  The  doctor  listened  for  a  moment;  then 
he  turned  his  back  to  the  window. 

"If  the  man  have  a  man's  heart  in  his  bosom," 
he  said,  "he  will  not  let  anything  stand  in  his 
way,  but  marry  her." 

"He  may  be  ten  thousand  times  willing  to 
marry  her,  but  she  will  never  marry  him." 

"Ah,"  said  the  doctor  out  of  the  gloom. 

"Ah  and  oh  as  much  as  thou  pleasest.  How 
canst  thou  expect  it,  with  such  ideas  inculcated 
in  her  young  mind  ?  She  will  sacrifice  her  heart 
to  her  religion,  depend  upon  it." 

"Thou  art  as  cheerful  as  an  owl,  with  thy 
impossible  contingencies.  Depend  upon  it,  they 
will  never  arise.  She  is  so  young  yet, —  hardly  six- 
teen. Herr  Goldman  will  come  and  propose  for 
her.  She  'will  marry  him  —  out  goes  your  ro- 
mance." 

"Perhaps  it  is  the  best  she  can  do,"  said  Hans 
moodily ;  "yet  —  I  would  have  wished  her  a  better 
fate.  Besides,  I  hardly  think  thy  father  will  give 
her  in  marriage  yet." 

"No?"  said  the  doctor;  he  was  still  listening 
to  the  nightingale. 

"I  heard  him  say  the  other  day  that  a  woman 


162  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

ought  never  to  marry  until  she  is  twenty;  and 
that  if  it  rested  with  him,  none  ever  should.'* 

"Exceptional  cases  require  exceptional  treat- 
ment," said  the  doctor;  "depend  upon  it,  the 
first  news  we  shall  receive  will  be  of  her  engage- 
ment." 

"Bah,"  said  Hans  pettishly;  "thou  hast  neither 
heart  nor  understanding,  else  thou  wouldst  not 
talk  so." 

"Hark,"  said  the  doctor;  "listen  to  the  night- 
ingale. How  ravishing  her  song!  Ah!  there 
comes  her  mate.  Oh,  their  raptures !  Brr !  Let 
me  shut  the  window.  The  night  has  grown  cold." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

"DoST  thou  grieve  I  am  going  away?  Dost 
thou  really  grieve,  Liebchen?  " 

The  Magyar  and  Jette  were  standing  in  the 
embrasure  of  the  window.  The  sobs  of  the  Frau 
Pastor  in  came  from  the  next  room,  where  she 
stood,  clinging  to  her  son.  The  "extra  post," 
with  its  postilion  outriders,  had  just  dashed  up  to 
the  door.  Babbett  was  busy  bestowing  traveling- 
bags  in  the  smallest  possible  space.  Everything 
was  ready  for  the  young  men's  departure.  Jette 
really  could  not  restrain  her  tears.  The  genial, 
merry  Hans,  with  his  boyish  pranks  and  super- 
abundance of  fun",  had  endeared  himself  to  every- 
body. Within  the  walls  of  the  parsonage  his 
memory  would  endure  as  long  as  its  inmates  lived. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  163 

His  gay,  hearty  laugh,  the  graceful  turn  of  his 
shoulders  when  he  kept  time  to  the  Kossuth 
March,  his  tall,  willowy  figure,  and  his  flashing 
black  eyes,  reflecting  his  sunny,  noble  disposition 
in  their  clear  depths,  —  who  would  ever  forget 
them  ?  It  was  no  wonder  Jette  felt  as  if  the  sun 
was  going  out  of  her  life.  With  the  exaggerated 
grief  of  youth,  she  thought  it  never  would  shine 
any  more.  She  knew  that  Hans  was  fond  of  her. 
How  fond,  it  was  just  as  well  she  did  not  know. 
She  had  twined  herself  around  his  heartstrings. 
He  was  sure  that  never,  never  would  he  forget 
her.  Some  such  memory  haunts  most  of  us.  It 
forms  a  sacred  shrine  in  the  innermost  recesses 
of  the  heart,  where  the  penetrating  gaze  of  even 
the  nearest  and  dearest  never  reaches.  Touched 
by  her  tears,  and  carried  away  by  his  own  emo- 
tion, Hans  raised  the  sweet  face,  and  kissed  her 
on  the  brow. 

"I  will  return,"  he  said,  deeply  moved;  "be 
true  to  me,  thou  darling  sweet  one." 

She  slipped  a  cigar  case,  elaborately  embroid- 
ered in  violet  and  silver,  into  his  hands. 

"I  sat  up  nights  to  finish  it,"  she  sobbed. 
"Carrier  Mueller  took  it  to  Cologne  to  have  it 
mounted.  It  is  all  I  can  give  you.  You  have 
been  so  kind  to  me,  —  you  have  given  me  so  much 
pleasure.  I  hope  you  will  use  it  as  a  little  keep- 
sake." 

Hans  took  it,  and  kissed  it.  "Thou  dear  one," 
he  said,  "thou  sweet,  good,  unspoiled  one.  I  will 
wear  thy  little  gift,  and  each  time  I  draw  it  forth, 


164  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

thy  sweet  face  shall  rise  up  before  me.  And  when 
it  gets  shabby  from  overmuch  use,  it  shall  remain 
the  most  treasured  of  all  my  possessions  still." 
And  that  he  really  felt  what  he  said,  and  never 
changed,  the  subsequent  years  proved.  For  in 
the  magnificent  castle  of  Czechy,  one  of  the  most 
palatial  possessions  on  the  banks  of  the  blue  Dan- 
ube, in  the  study  of  the  master,  is  a  costly  wrought 
silver  stand  with  priceless  crystal  globe.  And 
under  it,  worn  with  long  use,  the  shabby  little 
case  reposes,  a  sacred  relic,  —  doubly  sacred  by 
reason  of  what  happened  afterwards. 

The  guard  swung  his  horn  for  the  dozenth  time. 
"Die  Post  im  Walde,"  rung  out  clear  and  shrill, 
as  a  last  urging.  "  Schier  dreizig  Jahre  bist  Du 
alt,  hast  manchen  Sturm  erlebt,"  sung  Hans. 
The  doctor  came  out  of  the  adjoining  room,  his 
mother  clinging  to  his  hand,  his  father's  arm 
around  his  neck.  The  Frau  Pastorin's  eyelids 
were  red,  and  she  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would 
break. 

"Ah,  bah! "  cried  Hans ;  "  't  is  not  thus  we  must 
part,  with  tears  and  sobs  to  speed  us.  No,  indeed 
not.  Joyous  as  our  next  greeting  shall  it  be. 
Thou,  Fritz!  whistle,  as  was  thy  wont  while  we 
were  at  Bonn.  Attention !  " 

He  bounded  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  flung 
the  chairs  right  and  left,  and  began  to  dance. 
Ye  gods,  how  he  did  dance !  The  old  house  shook, 
and  at  one  time  it  seemed  as  if  the  roof  must 
topple  over  them.  The  madder  he  danced,  the 
madder  the  doctor  whistled.  At  first  every  one 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  165 

caught  his  breath  in  consternation.  Then  they 
smiled,  they  beamed,  they  clapped  their  hands. 
The  fever  of  the  Czardas  was  upon  them.  When 
at  length  he  stopped  for  sheer  want  of  breath,  he 
made  a  rush  for  his  top  coat  and  hat,  and  bounded 
into  the  post-chaise  before  the  rest  could  follow. 
Jette  came  up,  a  tear  in  one  eye,  a  laugh  in  the 
other.  "Thou  'It  remain  true,"  whispered  Hans. 
The  doctor  sprang  in  beside  him.  The  girl  looked 
at  Fritz  as  if  undecided ;  then  she  quickly  placed 
something  in  his  hand.  "Because  you  have  been 
good  to  me,"  she  murmured.  His  hand  closed 
softly  over  the  small,  embroidered  letter  portfolio. 
His  eyes  roamed  over  her  from  head  to  foot,  with 
a  long,  lingering  gaze.  His  mother  kissed  him 
convulsively.  She  put  her  arms  around  Hans 
von  Czechy's  neck  in  a  last  embrace.  The  Herr 
Pastor  held  a  hand  of  each.  Babbett  stood  at 
the  chaise  door,  ready  to  slam  it  to  when  they 
should  be  off.  She  fingered  the  liberal  Trinkgeld 
the  young  men  had  given  her  with  one  hand,  the 
other  held  a  corner  of  her  apron  to  her  eyes. 
Minka  looked  on  from  the  gate,  with  big,  solemn 
eyes.  The  guard  swung  his  horn,  the  postilions 
lashed  their  horses.  "Adieu,"  "Lebewohl,"  "Nein, 
nein,  auf  Wiedersehen,"  resounded  from  all  sides. 
One  more  glimpse  of  the  travelers  leaning  far  out 
of  either  coach  window,  a  frantic  waving  of  hand- 
kerchiefs, a  cloud  of  dust,  —  they  were  gone. 


166  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 


CHAPTEK  XXIV 

WHEN  all  the  cleaning  and  scouring  consequent 
upon  the  guests'  departure  was  done,  the  parson- 
age settled  into  its  humdrum  routine  again.  It 
was  then  everybody  began  to  realize  what  a  fright- 
ful void  was  left.  Each  time  the  Frau  Pastorin 
looked  up  from  her  sewing,  she  fancied  she  must 
see  her  son  and  the  young  Magyar  come  up  the 
graveled  walk,  arm  in  arm,  their  heads  close  to- 
gether, laughing  over  some  nonsense,  —  so  near 
of  a  height  together,  the  one  so  fair,  the  other  so 
dark,  graceful,  muscular,  and  strong,  —  so  good 
in  every  way  to  look  at.  Her  clear  eyes  would 
cloud  with  tears,  —  it  was  some  time  before  she 
was  able  to  look  at  her  sewing  again.  The  Herr 
Pastor,  coming  in  from  his  parochial  duties, 
glanced  around  the  silent,  empty  room,  hung  up 
his  hat,  and  went  over  and  kissed  her  in  his  hearty 
fashion. 

"'Tis  what  we  must  expect,  Liebste,"  he  said; 
"the  young  birds  leave  the  nest  in  course  of  time. 
At  all  events,  thou  and  I  are  left.  And  right 
merry  old  sweethearts  we  will  be,  eh?  " 

"I  shall  be  more  reconciled,"  she  sobbed,  "after 
I  get  the  first  news.  And  I  suppose  before  Fritz 
comes  back,  Henriette  will  be  gone,  too." 

"Softly,  softly,  softly,"  said  the  Herr  Pastor; 
"not  so  fast,  Kind.  Give  her  time  first  to  wear 
out  the  shoes  of  her  childhood.  'T  will  be  a  good 
four  or  five  years  yet,  I  promise  thee." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  167 

"She  is  very  tall  for  her  age,"  said  the  Frau 
Pastorin ;  "  really,  the  day  of  the  picnic  she  looked 
to  me  quite  womanly.  Everybody  was  surprised 
when  I  told  them  how  very  young  she  was." 

"'Tis  a  disadvantage,  certainly,"  said  the  Herr 
Pastor,  "to  be  so  forward  in  growing  when  one 
is  but  a  child.  Things  are  expected  of  one  with- 
out regard  to  circumstances." 

"Thou  hast  not  forgotten  Madame  Goldman's 
letter?"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin.  "Suppose  the 
contingency  were  to  arise." 

"It  may  not  arise,"  he  said  composedly;  "let 
us  put  it  to  the  proof  first." 

And  it  was  not  long  in  coming. 

Jette  had  gone  to  the  village  on  a  little  errand 
for  the  Frau  Pastorin.  For  the  first  two  or  three 
days  after  the  young  men  had  left,  she  grieved 
violently  and  persistently.  Her  eyelids  were  red 
with  weeping,  and  often  in  the  midst  of  her  work 
she  would  catch  her  breath  with  a  great  sob. 

"'Tis  calf  love,"  said  Babbett  complacently; 
"for  a  little  while  it  hurts,  like  cutting  a  tooth, 
or  jamming  one's  finger.  But  't  will  not  last  long. 
When  the  tooth  is  safely  through,  and  the  finger 
bound  up,  we  laugh  and  dance  more  gayly  than 
ever.  'T  is  good  for  thy  infant  feelings  to  get 
schooled  this  way.  Thou  'It  not  be  so  susceptible 
next  time." 

But  Jette  refused  to  be  comforted.  She  thought 
her  grief  was  going  to  last  forever.  All  the  sun- 
shine had  gone  out  of  her  life,  leaving  it  dreary 
and  colorless  as  an  arid  waste.  She  continually 


168  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

talked  about  Hans  von  Czechy,  and  speculated 
at  what  part  of  his  journey  he  must  be  now.  It 
was  Herr  von  Czechy  here,  Herr  von  Czechy 
there.  The  doctor  she  never  mentioned.  Never- 
theless, she  slept  very  soundly  at  night,  and  the 
fourth  morning  came  down  singing  a  blithe  little 
song.  A  week  after,  she  was  quite  her  old  self 
again,  read  on  the  sly  as  usual,  industriously 
weeded  her  garden,  and  slid  down  the  banisters, 
if  she  was  in  a  hurry  to  get  down.  Once  or  twice 
she  went  up  to  Hermersdorff .  Thekla  was  as  kind 
and  gracious  as  ever,  but  a  certain  something  in 
her  manner  struck  a  chill  to  the  girl's  heart.  She 
was  going  abroad  with  her  father.  The  professor 
had  often  wished  to  visit  Athens  to  make  some 
historical  researches  there.  Now  he  had  obtained 
a  long  leave  of  absence.  They  were  going  to 
travel  leisurely,  and  visit  most  foreign  cities  by 
the  way.  Berlin,  Paris,  Vienna,  Buda-Pesth,  — 
yes,  indeed,  they  were  going  to  take  their  own 
time  about  it.  When  Fraulein  von  Hermersdorff 
told  the  Frau  Pastor  in,  she  could  have  hugged 
her.  Dear,  clever  girl !  She  was  going  to  meet 
Fritz  abroad ;  now  at  last  he  would  declare  him- 
self, —  they  would  come  back  engaged.  Her  rosy 
visions  mounted  heaven  high  again. 

So  Jette  attributed  the  certain  indefinable  some- 
thing in  Fraulein  von  Hermersdorff's  manner  to 
her  busy  preparations  for  her  departure.  There 
was  so  much  to  see  to,  —  yes,  of  course  that  was 
it.  How  could  people  be  smiling  and  smirking 
when  they  didn't  know  where  their  heads  stood 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  169 

for  work?  But  she  went  to  Hermersdorff  no 
more.  Her  proud  little  heart  was  more  sensitive 
than  her  reason.  She  found  consolation  in  her 
books,  and  went  out  into  the  glad  sunshine.  As 
she  had  said,  the  world  was  wide;  she  could  go 
her  own  way  without  rubbing  elbows  with  others. 
As  she  walked  up  the  village  street,  a  child's 
pitiful  wail  struck  upon  her  ear.  It  was  one  of 
the  sounds  she  could  never  listen  to  without  keen 
distress.  She  turned  her  head,  and  there  at  the 
open  window  stood  Gret,  whose  spiteful,  squint- 
eyed  face  she  never  could  see  without  remembering 
with  a  shudder  the  time  when  she  had  led  the  at- 
tack which  came  near  ending  in  murder.  Gret, 
or  Gretel,  as  she  was  generally  called,  was  mar- 
ried now,  and  had  an  angel  child.  No  one  could 
account  how  Gret  came  by  her.  It  was  one  of 
those  strange  phenomena  with  which  Nature,  in 
one  of  her  capricious  moods,  likes  to  perplex  man- 
kind. Gret,  with  her  hair  and  complexion  the 
same  uniform  straw  color,  the  detestable  cast  in 
her  pale  eyes,  pig-mouthed  and  flat-nosed,  was  as 
ugly  a  creature  as  one  would  wish  to  avoid  meet- 
ing. She  was  notorious  for  miles  around  as  the 
most  evil-tongued,  malicious,  slandering  gossip 
that  ever  incumbered  a  community.  Everybody 
was  polite  to  her,  for  everybody  feared  her.  One 
was  never  safe  to  utter  the  most  indifferent 
opinion  in  her  presence.  Her  lying  tongue  would 
pounce  upon  it,  and  twist,  turn,  and  distort  it 
to  her  own  malicious  purpose.  She  had  caused 
friends  to  become  enemies,  and  occasioned  more 


170  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

ill  feeling  and  heartburning  than  any  dozen  per- 
sons put  together.  If  any  one  wanted  some  dis- 
agreeable news  conveyed  to  some  one  else,  they 
had  only  to  tell  Gret,  under  promise  of  the  strict- 
est secrecy.  Before  another  hour  had  elapsed,  it 
was  proclaimed  hydra-tongued  from  the  market- 
place. Her  household  was  left  to  take  care  of 
itself,  in  her  devouring  greed  for  gossip.  At  the 
parsonage  she  was  detested,  and  the  Frau  Pastor  in 
never  allowed  her  to  come  further  than  the  kitchen 
threshold.  She  would  come  occasionally  to  make 
a  great  outcry  about  the  manner  Peter,  her  black 
cat,  had  been  mauled  by  Minka.  Ostensibly,  this 
was  her  purpose.  In  reality,  it  was  to  find  out 
what  was  going  on,  for  she  did  not  care  a  kreutzer 
for  Peter's  mauling.  The  last  time  she  had  come 
to  the  parsonage  door  was  during  the  doctor's  and 
the  young  Baron  von  Czechy's  visit.  Babbett  had 
then  told  her  plainly  that  if  she  ever  showed  her- 
self on  a  similar  errand,  she  would  expedite  her 
departure  with  the  other  end  of  the  broom.  Her 
husband,  a  thick-skulled,  good-natured,  well-to-do 
yokel,  who  had  been  entrapped  into  the  marriage 
by  the  most  fabulous  promises  of  a  fat  dowry,  and 
after  the  wedding  got  roundly  laughed  at  for  his 
credulity,  let  her  do  mainly  as  she  pleased.  He 
was  afraid  of  her  lashing  tongue,  and  providing 
he  had  food  set  before  him  three  times  a  day  and 
a  made  bed  to  sleep  in,  was  stolidly  indifferent  to 
the  neglected  condition  of  his  house.  His  pretty 
little  girl  baby  was  his  perpetual  wonder  and 
delight.  The  good  looks  he  and  his  wife  had 


A  TENT  OF   GRACE  171 

between  them  could  never  be  made  a  reproach  to 
either.  He  was  pretty  much  the  same  complexion 
as  herself,  a  stupid,  colorless  clod,  entirely  influ- 
enced and  ruled  by  her.  What  had  the  pretty, 
blue-eyed,  golden-haired  baby,  with  its  delicate, 
lily  face,  to  do  with  such  parents?  It  cried  and 
cried,  as  if  it  longed  to  go  to  where  it  rightfully 
belonged.  It  took  kindly  to  the  father,  but  would 
draw  no  nourishment  from  the  mother's  breast. 
The  wise  old  women  wagged  their  heads,  and 
prophesied  the  baby  would  never  live.  But  it  did, 
and  throve  into  the  bargain,  much  to  the  loutish 
father's  delight. 

It  happened  that  one  day,  when  the  baby  was 
six  months  old,  Jette  passed  the  house,  and  she 
smiled  at  the  little  creature  in  its  mother's  arms, 
on  the  house-step,  and  cooed  in  her  soft,  caressing 
way,  as  she  did  to  her  pet  doves.  The  baby 
looked  at  her  with  its  large,  mournful  blue  eyes, 
cried  as  if  its  heart  would  break,  and  stretched 
out  its  arms  to  her.  There  was  no  help  for  it, 
she  had  to  take  it,  and  the  little  creature  crowed 
and  laughed  for  the  first  time  in  its  life,  and  clung 
to  her  as  if  it  would  never  let  her  go.  Since  then 
it  cried  incessantly  for  her,  and  no  one  could 
pacify  it  but  Jette.  The  Frau  Pastor  in  would 
not  allow  her  to  go  to  Gret's  house,  so  whenever 
the  baby  became  too  fretful,  it  was  brought  to 
the  parsonage,  where  it  was  left  by  the  hour  to- 
gether. The  big  mahogany  cradle  in  which  the 
Frau  Pastorin  had  put  her  dolls  to  sleep,  and 
which  had  accompanied  her,  among  her  other 


172  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

effects,  from  her  Pomeranian  home,  was  fetched 
down  from  the  garret,  the  soft  down  ticking  newly 
covered,  and  Lieschen  put  into  it  when  she  went 
to  sleep.  The  dolls  were  gone  long  ago,  but  the 
baby  fitted  the  cradle,  with  plenty  of  room  to 
spare.  Now  when  Lieschen 's  pitiful  wail  struck 
upon  Jette's  ear,  she  could  not  do  otherwise  than 
take  her,  though  the  Frau  Pastorin  had  cautioned 
her  never  to  stop  to  speak  with  Gret  on  any  pre- 
tense whatever. 

"Yes,  take  the  brat,"  said  Gret  peevishly; 
"surely  thou  hast  bewitched  her.  All  day  long 
she  does  nothing  but  howl  after  thee." 

Gret  had  never  ceased  to  address  the  girl  by 
the  familiar  thee  and  thou,  though  she  was  grow- 
ing up,  and  people  naturally  conceded  her  the 
respect  which  belonged  to  her.  After  the  manner 
of  her  class,  Gret  assumed  that  the  more  effrontery 
she  displayed,  the  more  surely  did  she  put  herself 
on  a  footing  of  equality.  For  all  the  foolish  cod- 
dling they  gave  the  girl  at  the  parsonage,  Gret 
declared,  she  for  one  was  not  going  to  forget  she 
was  a  waif  picked  up  from  the  highway,  who  came 
from  the  dear  Lord  only  knew,  a  beggar  strumpet 
of  a  Jewess,  who  for  airs  and  graces  did  not  know 
where  her  head  stood,  beholden  to  charity  for  the 
very  chemise  she  wore  on  her  back.  Oh,  indeed ! 
If  she  had  forgotten  it,  and  everybody  else  had 
forgotten  it,  Gret  was  not  going  to ;  but  she  would 
rub  it  into  her  at  each  and  every  opportunity, 
never  fear! 

Jette  took  the  child  from  the  skinny  arms  of 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  173 

the  mother  into  her  own  divinely  rounded  ones. 
With  her  young,  innocent  eyes  she  smiled  into  the 
baby  ones,  pursed  up  her  rosy  mouth,  and  cooed 
so  sweetly  and  softly  that  the  child  crowed  with 
rapture. 

"Now  let  any  one  listen  to  that!"  said  Gret 
discontentedly ;  "  not  once  in  all  the  time  does  she 
do  that  with  me.  What  is  it  that  ails  the  brat  ? 
Am  I  not  her  mother,  her  own  natural  mother,  and 
thou  a  perfect  stranger?  Yet  she  seems  happier 
with  thee." 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Jette;  "'tis  just  the  change, 
that  is  all.  If  you  would  go  out  with  her,  — 
out  beyond  the  village,  where  there  is  nothing 
but  sunshine  and  green  trees  and  flowers,  and  the 
birds  sing  so  heavenly,  —  I  think  Lieschen  would 
feel  happier." 

"1  dare  say,"  said  Gret,  with  lofty  contempt. 
"A  gadabout  like  fchee,  who  lives  on  other  peo- 
ple's bounty,  and  cares  not  from  whence  it  comes, 
can  easily  do  that.  But  I  have  my  household  to 
look  after,  a  husband  to  care  for,  who  comes  home 
hungry  to  his  meals,  —  fine  advice  that  is  thou 
givest  me,  to  go  lazying  about  all  day  long.  As  if 
one  had  nothing  else  to  do  but  listen  to  the  birds 
singing!  Truly,  a  fine  thing!  " 

She  laughed  jeeringly,  and  looked  the  girl  all 
over.  "Well,  I  must  say,"  she  resumed,  "they 
trick  thee  out  finely  at  the  parsonage.  A  clean 
dress  as  often  as  you  please,  and  each  time  't  is  a 
different  color.  I  dare  say  the  young  baron  who 
stayed  there  gave  thee  a  handsome  Trinkgeld. 


174  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

Perhaps  thou  didst  put  an  extra  polish  ou  his 
boots.  I  heard  that  thou  and  Babbett  quarreled 
who  should  clean  them.  Thou  art  a  sly  one,  thou 
art,  and  knowest  a  good  place  when  thou  hast  got 
it.  I  only  wonder  that  old  hag  Babbett  stands  it. 
Perhaps  thou  thinkest  to  step  into  her  shoes  when 
she  is  too  old  to  work  any  more.  'T  would  be  a 
fine  thing  for  thee,  truly.  If  I  were  thee,  I  would 
insist  upon  some  wages  then.  Surely  they  can't 
think  to  have  thy  services  for  nothing  all  the 
time.  Thou  wilt  have  to  earn  money,  otherwise 
what  will  become  of  thee  ?  No  one  will  marry  a 
poor  girl  who  has  not  a  chemise  to  her  back. 
Look  at  me.  I  am  already  married,  and  not  so 
very  much  older  as  thou,  either." 

Jette  rose.  She  gently  laid  the  sleeping  Lies- 
chen  in  her  cradle.  All  the  time  she  had  been 
singing  softly,  and  the  baby,  with  a  rapturous 
smile,  had  gradually  closed  her  eyes.  She  bent 
over  the  cradle,  and  gave  the  child  a  long,  pitying 
gaze.  The  look  was  still  on  her  face  when  she 
turned  to  the  mother. 

"When  Lieschen  cries,"  she  said,  "bring  her 
to  the  parsonage.  Thou  mayest  safely  leave  her 
there,  and  go  about  thy  business." 

She  held  her  head  very  high  as  she  went,  vow- 
ing never,  never  to  disobey  the  Frau  Pastorin 
again.  Gret's  squint  eyes  were  set,  and  her 
mouth  agape  in  astonishment.  Then  she  clenched 
her  hands  in  fury.  "The  insolent  strumpet! "  she 
gasped ;  "  to  speak  to  me  as  if  I  were  dirt  beneath 
her  feet.  '  Thou  mayest  safely  leave  her,  and  go 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  175 

about  thy  business,'  indeed!  With  what  an  air 
she  said  it !  and  the  tone  of  her  voice !  quite  the 
lady  of  quality,  I  declare!  The  beggar.  Well, 
this  is  delicious  news.  'Twill  make  everybody 
roar,  I  am  sure."  She  stole  out,  leaving  her 
sleeping  child  alone. 

Jette  went  on  her  errand  for  the  Frau  Pastorin. 
It  was  already  well  on  in  the  afternoon  when  she 
neared  the  parsonage  gate.  Babbett  beckoned 
her  from  the  kitchen  window.  The  old  peasant 
woman  seemed  quite  excited. 

"Go  in,"  she  whispered,  "just  as  thou  art. 
Thou  'It  do  very  well.  Some  one  there  is  in  there 
who  will  be  glad  to  see  thee." 

Jette 's  heart  gave  a  great  bound.  The  blood 
rushed  in  a  wave  to  her  head.  Was  it  —  could  it 
be  —  but  no.  How  absurd !  He  was  on  his  way 
home  —  probably  had  reached  there  by  now.  And 
yet  —  She  hastily  smoothed  down  her  dress  and 
went  to  the  sitting-room.  She  heard  voices  within 
in  animated  conversation.  Softly  opening  the 
door,  she  went  in.  Some  one  rose,  and  eagerly 
came  forward  to  greet  her.  It  was  Herr  Gold- 
man. 

CHAPTER  XXV 

"I  HAVE  said  it,"  said  the  pastor,  "and  I  stand 
by  it.  The  girl  is  a  mere  child.  'T  would  be  a 
grievous  sin  to  expect  her  to  take  the  duties  and 
responsibilities  of  wifehood  upon  her.  Why,  she 
has  not  done  growing  yet.  Give  her  body  time 


176  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

to  develop,  and  her  judgment  to  ripen.  Then  with 
God's  help  and  such  enlightenment  as  time  and 
circumstances  shall  give  her,  she  will  most  prob- 
ably not  say  you  nay." 

"Most  dear  and  reverend  sir,"  said  Herr  Gold- 
man, "do  I  not  entirely  submit  myself  into  your 
hands?  Only  permit  me  to  point  out  to  your 
superior  wisdom  and  understanding  that  ideas 
differ  as  to  length  of  time.  When  you  urge  upon 
me  the  necessity  of  waiting  three  years  "  — 

"Four,"  interrupted  the  pastor. 

"As  I  understand,"  said  the  exasperated  suitor, 
"the  Fraulein  is  close  upon  her  seventeenth  year. 
When  you  mentioned  you  would  not  allow  her  to 
marry  under  twenty  "  — 

"Dear  Herr  Banquier,"  genially  said  the  pastor, 
"you  forget  that  Jettchen  is  no  city  Fraulein. 
She  is  very  young  for  her  age.  Her  somewhat 
isolated  life  has  probably  had  something  to  do 
with  it.  At  Fasching  (Carnival  time)  she  will  be 
seventeen.  We  are  now  upon  the  close  of  the 
summer.  You  will  understand  I  was  correct  when 
I  stipulated  that  four  years  from  now  would  be 
far  more  appropriate  for  renewing  your  suit." 

"We  will  not  split  hairs,  Herr  Banquier,"  said 
the  Frau  Pastorin ;  "  't  is  a  great  honor  you  have 
done  both  us  and  the  girl.  If  in  three  years  from 
now  you  are  of  the  same  mind  "  — 

"Four,"  said  the  obstinate  pastor. 

"Now,  now,  now,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin, 
"one  need  not  be  so  particular  about  a  few  months 
when  one's  whole  future  is  involved.  Indeed, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  177 

Herr  Banquier,  I  repeat,  I  consider  it  a  great 
honor  for  the  girl,  and  the  rarest  piece  of  good 
fortune  for  one  in  her  position,  besides." 

"All  of  which  does  not  help  me,"  said  the 
banker,  "  if  you  give  me  no  better  encouragement. 
With  all  due  respect  to  your  superior  judgment, 
Herr  Pastor,  and  yours,  Frau  Pastorin,  can  you 
tell  me  of  any  suitor  who  would  be  willing  to  wait 
upon  mere  indefinite  promises?  " 

The  Frau  Pastorin  looked  at  the  Herr  Pastor. 
Her  eyes  beamed  meaningly.  Certainly  the  banker 
was  justified  in  what  he  said.  'T  would  be  a 
grievous  sin  and  shame  to  let  such  a  goldfish  slip 
through  one's  fingers.  Penniless  girls  were  not 
pelted  with  such  chances  every  day,  even  though  he 
did  have  red  hair  and  a  club  foot.  It  was  a  ro- 
mance, one  of  those  improbable  things  one  read 
about,  but  which  rarely,  if  ever,  happened  in  real 
life. 

"  We  would  not  be  so  unjust  to  you,  Herr  Ban- 
quier," she  said,  "or  to  the  girl,  either.  Your 
proposal,  magnificent  and  generous  as  it  is,  has 
taken  us  completely  by  surprise.  We  have  never 
thought  of  Henriette  in  regard  to  marriage.  She 
is  so  young  yet "  — 

"  My  mother  was  married  when  she  was  a  year 
younger,"  said  the  banker.  "She  was  the  Frau- 
lein's  age  when  I  was  born." 

"Very  likely,"  said  the  pastor  quietly.  He 
shuddered  inwardly.  "Before  I  decide  upon  the 
girl's  future,  she  must  have  a  voice  in  the  matter. 
For  that  she  is  not  competent  yet.  If  I  judge 


178  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

her  rightly,  the  mere  idea  of  marriage  will  be 
abhorrent  to  her.  She  has  never  heard  of  it  in 
relation  to  herself.  Give  her  time  to  accustom 
herself  to  the  idea." 

"And  you  expect  me  to  be  satisfied  with  this?" 
said  the  banker. 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  the  pastor.  "I 
beg  of  you,  if  these  conditions  do  not  suit  you,  to 
take  your  own  course.  I  take  it  you  are  really  in 
love"— • 

"I  am,"  said  Herr  Goldman,  "really  and  truly. 
Would  I  be  here  otherwise?  I  loved  her  from 
the  first  moment  I  saw  her." 

The  Frau  Pastorin  was  delighted.  The  Herr 
Pastor  also  was  touched. 

"Believe  me,"  he  said  gently,  "I  am  acting 
in  your  best  interests.  'T  would  not  be  at  all  for 
your  happiness  were  I  rash  enough  to  grant  your 
request.  Surely  you  are  old  enough  to  know  that." 

"You  may  be  right,  reverend  sir,"  said  Herr 
Goldman  obstinately,  "but  at  the  present  moment 
I  fail  to  see  it.  All  I  know  is,  I  love  her,  and  I 
want  her.  Thou  dear  Heaven !  She  would  have 
a  life  like  a  queen.  Do  you  not  think  she  would 
be  grateful?  Bah!  At  all  events,  I  am  old 
enough  to  know  that.  She  would  love  me,  of 
course  she  would.  Where,  then,  is  the  necessity 
of  waiting?" 

"Jacob  waited  longer  for  Eachel  than  that," 
said  the  pastor. 

"Jacob,"  said  the  banker  contemptuously,  "was 
a  pauper.  Do  you  think  he  waited  for  pleasure, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  179 

or  as  a  test  to  his  own  patience?  He  had  to  earn 
the  wherewithal  first  to  satisfy  that  old  skinflint 
Laban  of  his  ability  to  support  her.  Really,  I 
fail  to  see  how  in  the  present  instance  the  com- 
parison holds  good." 

The  pastor  winced.  To  call  the  revered  bibli- 
cal patriarch  a  pauper  hurt  him  as  much  as  if 
some  one  had  personally  affronted  him. 

"Love  leaves  its  impression,"  said  the  banker, 
"upon  a  young,  untouched  heart.  In  most  cases  it 
comes  only  after  marriage.  Look  at  my  mother. 
She  was  too  young  to  be  consulted.  Yet  I  defy 
the  world  over  to  point  out  a  happier  union." 

"Jettchen  has  been  brought  up  differently," 
said  the  pastor;  "she  is  accustomed  to  think  and 
act  for  herself.  She  has  very  strong  likes  and 
dislikes.  Yet  she  is  obedient  and  tractable." 

"Let  me  ask  her,  then,"  said  Herr  Goldman 
eagerly;  "support  my  suit,  and  let  me  put  the 
engagement  ring  on  her  finger.  'T  will  help  her 
to  accustom  herself  to  the  idea  that  at  some  time 
not  very  far  distant  she  will  be  mine.  Dear 
Heaven !  Was  ever  suitor  content  with  so  little  ? 
I  will  wait  till  she  is  nineteen  "  — 

The  Herr  Pastor  was  about  to  interpose,  but 
the  Frau  Pastorin  said  quickly  and  cordially,  "  Of 
course,  of  course.  I  for  my  part  shall  make  no 
further  objections,  then,  neither  do  I  think  will 
my  husband."  She  looked  at  the  banker  mean- 
ingly, as  much  as  to  say,  "  I  shall  take  very  good 
care  he  doesn't." 

"  Well,"  said  Herr  Goldman,  with  a  sigh,  "'tis 


180  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

a  great  disappointment  to  me,  and  't  will  be  more 
so  to  my  mother.  She  longs  to  see  me  settled  in 
life." 

"The  Herr  Banquier,  your  father"  —  hazarded 
the  pastor. 

Herr  Goldman  laughed.  "Whatever  pleases 
mamma  pleases  papa  also,"  he  said;  "the  most 
ardent  wish  of  both  my  parents  is  to  see  me 
married." 

"All  parents  wish  that,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin, 
"as  soon  as  their  children  are  grown  up."  She 
thought  of  her  own  son,  and  her  hopes  rose  high. 
Fritz  married  to  the  heiress  of  Hermersdorff,  and 
Henriette  married  to  this  rich  man,  —  surely  she 
was  a  happy  woman.  Could  matters  turn  out 
more  luckily? 

"In  the  mean  time,"  she  said,  "Henriette  shall 
visit  Madame  Goldman  next  Carnival.  'Twill 
give  her  an  opportunity  to  get  thoroughly  well 
acquainted  with  her  future  surroundings.  Oh, 
yes.  Time  will  pass  quickly  enough.  Aha !  here 
comes  Henriette." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

FOR  a  moment  Jette  turned  cold  with  disap- 
pointment, as  Herr  Goldman  stumped  forward  to 
meet  her.  It  was  unfortunate  for  his  suit  he 
should  have  come  at  a  time  when  her  heart  was 
entirely  filled  with  the  bright  image  of  Hans  von 
Czechy.  The  contrast  of  his  squat,  bull-necked 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  181 

figure,  his  deformed  limb,  and  fiery  red  hair,  to 
the  tall,  handsome  Hans,  whose  every  movement 
was  personified  grace,  whose  joyous  dark  face  and 
enchanting  smile  haunted  her  wherever  she  went, 
almost  made  her  heart  stand  still.  A  feeling  of 
repulsion  —  of  loathing  —  suddenly  came  over  her. 
She  saw  the  gleam  of  his  dark,  gold-ringed  eyes 
fixed  upon  her,  —  a  look  with  which  no  one  had 
ever  gazed  at  her  before.  She  stood  still  and 
helpless,  while  he  took  her  hand  and  bowed  over 
it,  uttering  the  smoothest,  most  chivalrous  phrases 
in  his  easy,  man-of-the-world  fashion.  He  thought 
her  more  shy  than  when  first  he  met  her,  but, 
oh,  so  enchantingly,  so  divinely  fair,  so  just  what 
he  most  wished  for  and  desired  in  a  wife,  that 
he  almost  died  of  chagrin  and  disappointment  to 
think  she  should  be  withheld  from  him  yet.  Cof- 
fee was  brought  in,  and  the  guest  urged  to  stay 
to  supper,  to  which  he  only  too  gladly  acceded. 
What  mattered  to  him  the  surroundings,  —  he 
had  eyes  only  for  her.  And  she  —  an  undefinable 
horror,  a  dread,  took  possession  of  her.  Why 
was  she  placed  next  to  him  at  table?  Why  did 
he  look  at  her  with  glances  of  fire?  Why  were 
the  Herr  Pastor  and  the  Frau  Pastorin  so  com- 
plaisant to  him?  Thou  dear  Heaven !  Why  was 
he  there  at  all?  The  coffee  scalded  her  throat, 
the  morsel  almost  choked  her.  She  was  not  al- 
lowed to  carry  out  the  dishes,  as  she  usually  did, 
but  Babbett  was  called  in,  and  for  a  wonder  she 
did  it  right  willingly,  smirking  and  throwing 
looks  of  the  strangest  significance  at  the  girl. 


182  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

What  did  it  all  mean  ?  She  went  to  the  window, 
from  where  she  could  see  the  sky  all  purple  and 
yellow,  a  magnificent  panorama  of  colors,  for  the 
sun  was  going  down.  In  a  moment  Herr  Gold- 
man was  beside  her. 

"'Tis  so  different  from  our  narrow  streets,"  he 
said,  smiling;  "one  has  no  chance  to  see  the  sun 
set  across  one's  neighbor's  tall  housetops.  I  am 
afraid  you  will  miss  it  when  you  come  to  us, 
Fraulein." 

Her  lips  moved  in  astonishment,  but  she  uttered 
no  sound. 

"Has  not  the  Frau  Pastorin  told  you?"  he 
asked  genially;  "'tis  settled  you  are  to  pay  us 
a  long  visit  next  Carnival.  'T  is  great  fun,  I  as- 
sure you.  Do  you  not  think  you  will  enjoy  it? " 

"I  have  heard  a  great  deal  of  the  pleasures  of 
that  time,"  she  said  timidly.  "  Am  I  really  to  go  ?  " 

"You  are  to  come  to  us,"  he  said,  with  em- 
phasis. He  came  a  little  nearer.  She  shuddered 
when  she  felt  this. 

"You  are  glad,  are  you  not?"  he  asked  caress- 
ingly. She  murmured  some  indistinct  reply.  "My 
mother  will  be  so  pleased  to  have  you  with  her," 
he  went  on.  "You  like  my  mother,  do  you  not?  " 

"Yes,"  she  said  faintly. 

"You  will  try  to  like  me  a  little  also,  will  you 
not?"  he  said  still  more  caressingly.  "I  will  do 
anything  in  the  world  to  make  you  happy.  I  will 
be  so  good  to  you,  —  no  one  in  the  world  could  be 
better." 

Oh,  what  did  he  mean?     If  only  he  would  not 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  183 

come  so  near.  And  the  Herr  Pastor  and  the  Frau 
Pastor  in,  —  did  they  know  he  was  talking  to  her 
in  such  intimate  fashion?  But  when  she  looked 
around,  the  Frau  Pastorin  nodded  to  her  quite 
gayly,  and  stepped  from  the  open  window  to  the 
path  beneath,  and  the  Herr  Pastor  followed  her, 
with  watering-pot  and  a  large  pair  of  shears. 
She  was  dumfounded.  It  was,  then,  with  their 
sanction  he  spoke  to  her  thus,  —  she  felt  hot  and 
cold  by  turns.  She  liked  Herr  Goldman  well 
enough  at  a  distance,  especially  if  he  gave  her 
bonbons  and  delicious  ices.  She  had  gloated  over 
her  Schiller  and  her  Heine  all  the  more  raptur- 
ously, because  she  had  done  so  by  stealth.  The 
sad  fate  of  the  lovers  in  "Kabal  und  Liebe"  had 
racked  her  very  soul,  and  she  clenched  her  fists 
in  furious  hatred  of  the  detestable  Wurm  who 
encompassed  their  ruin.  Now,  when  the  banker's 
head  edged  near  her  own,  it  flashed  across  her 
that  his  appearance  coincided  exactly  with  that 
of  the  hated  secretary.  The  red  hair,  the  promi- 
nent eyes,  the  powerful,  undersized  figure,  —  she 
drew  back  with  a  feeling  of  horror  and  aversion. 
Then  that  unfortunate  club  foot,  —  to  her  dis- 
torted fancy  it  seemed  like  the  veritable  hoof  of 
Satan.  The  poor  banker !  Most  unfortunate  was 
it  for  him  that  this  foolish,  inexperienced  little 
heart,  fed  by  a  romantic  fancy,  bore  at  that  mo- 
ment the  warm  impress  of  her  favorite  hero.  Oh, 
it  would  be  some  one  like  that  who  would  one  day 
come  to  woo  her,  not  this  horrid,  deformed  man, 
who,  with  his  world-worn,  blase  physique,  appeared 


184  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

quite  old  and  detestable  to  her.  He  was  rich 
and  powerful,  she  was  poor  —  she  knew  that  very 
well.  But  what  does  an  inexperienced  girl  of 
sixteen  care  for  that?  At  that  time  the  whole 
world  seems  at  her  feet. 

"Fraulein  Jettchen,"  said  the  banker,  —  "for  I 
may  call  you  so,  eh? "  — 

"Yes,  yes,"  she  said  hurriedly,  "I  much  prefer 
it.  I  —  I  —  it  seems  so  odd  to  be  called  by  my 
surname.  No  one  has  ever  done  so." 

"No,  of  course  not,"  he  said  indulgently;  "you 
have  hardly  been  out  of  your  immediate  family 
circle.  How  you  will  enjoy  getting  a  glimpse  of 
the  outside  world!  You  like  to  go  out  among 
people,  and  amuse  yourself,  do  you  not?" 

"Yes,  if  they  are  nice  to  me,"  she  said,  think- 
ing of  the  unfortunate  picnic. 

"Of  course  every  one  will  be  nice  to  you. 
How  could  they  help  it?  When  you  come  to  us, 
you  will  be  more  than  loved.  My  mother  loves 
you  —  I  love  you  "  — 

"Oh,"  she  said.  She  wanted  to  run  away  from 
this  awful  man,  whose  red  hair  was  singeing  her 
soul.  Her  hand  hung  limp  and  powerless  at  her 
side.  It  happened  to  be  the  right  one.  She  was 
so  much  taller  than  he  that  he  easily  observed  it. 

"What  a  beautiful  hand,"  he  said.  Only  a 
short  time  ago  some  one  else  had  told  her  the 
same  thing.  Then,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life, 
she  had  heard  it.  Some  one  —  yes.  She  thrilled 
and  blushed  when  she  remembered.  Had  he  not 
said  he  would  return? 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  185 

"A  beautiful  hand,"  resumed  Herr  Goldman, 
"and  quite  without  adornment.  In  that  it  is  most 
noticeable  for  its  perfection.  If  it  have  any 
adornment  at  all,  it  should  at  least  be  something 
worthy  of  it." 

He  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  drew  out 
a  small  morocco  case.  The  Herr  Pastor  and  the 
Frau  Pastorin,  who,  for  all  their  being  outside, 
had  kept  a  wary  eye  on  the  pair,  now  stepped 
back  into  the  room. 

Herr  Goldman  snapped  back  the  lid.  A  cry 
of  delight  came  from  Jette,  who,  with  heaving 
breast  and  eyes  that  matched  the  sparkle  of  the 
gem  resting  on  its  white  satin  bed,  gazed,  and 
gazed  her  heart  out. 

"Oh,  everlastingly  feminine!"  murmured  the 
pastor. 

"'Tis  a  pretty  bauble,  eh?"  said  the  banker 
carelessly.  But  his  face  shone.  "Not  this  hand, 
Fraulein,  the  other  one  —  the  left  one  —  the  one 
nearest  your  heart." 

"  Not  —  not  —  for  me  ?  "  she  gasped. 

"For  whom,  then?  Have  I  not  said  I  love 
you?  Do  not  the  Herr  Pastor  and  the  Frau 
Pastorin  favor  my  suit  ?  Some  day  —  not  so  very 
long  —  when  you  are  quite  grown  up  —  I  am  to 
come  and  marry  you.  And  you  will  try  and  love 
me  a  little  in  return,  will  you  not?" 

She  shivered,  and  could  not  say  a  word.  Her 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  stone,  glittering  like  the 
eye  of  a  basilisk.  Not  now  did  she  desire  it; 
not  for  worlds  would  she  be  fettered  with  that 


186  A   TENT  OF  GRACE 

serpent-like  thing.  Her  left  hand  clenched  itself 
in  the  folds  of  her  dress.  But  he,  all  unwitting 
of  her  thoughts,  gently  raised  it,  and  held  it  in 
his  own.  Then  the  dull  black  circlet  met  his 
"view. 

"Why,"  he  stammered,  "the  Fraulein  already 
wears  a  ring." 

"What  nonsense,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin,  very 
much  offended;  "that  funny  little  black  thing! 
Doubtless  thou  boughtest  it  at  the  Kirmess,  eh, 
Henriette?" 

She  looked  at  the  girl,  who  turned  scarlet.  She 
put  her  hand  over  the  little  circlet,  as  if  it  were 
something  sacred  and  she  wanted  to  shield  it  from 
profane  looks. 

"One  does  not  buy  antiques  at  a  Kirmess," 
said  the  banker  harshly;  "that  ring  has  another 
history  to  tell." 

The  Herr  Pastor  looked  at  Jette.  She  under- 
stood it  very  well.  "Herr  von  Czechy  gave  it  to 
me,"  she  said,  looking  back  at  him  with  her  clear 
eyes.  "One  day  out  in  the  garden  he  gave  it  to 
me  as  a  keepsake,  and  told  me  it  had  been  in  his 
family  a  long  time.  I  have  worn  it  ever  since." 

"So,"  said  Herr  Goldman,  with  jealous  fury; 
"I  wonder  what  his  countess,  whom  he  has  gone 
home  to  marry,  would  say  to  this.  Perhaps  she, 
too,  distributed  rings  as  keepsakes  during  the 
time  he  was  away  and  engaged  to  her." 

If  he  had  only  known !  From  that  moment  the 
passive  aversion  in  her  breast  flared  up  into  most 
active  loathing.  How  she  abhorred  him!  His 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  187 

club  foot,  his  flaming  red  hair,  those  prominent 
gold-ringed  eyes,  —  it  was  a  tout  ensemble  which 
typified  everything  that  was  most  repulsive  to 
her.  The  room  swam  around  her.  This  was  her 
first  knowledge  of  man's  perfidy.  Her  heart  was 
not  touched;  but  her  faith  was  gone.  "Be  true 
to  me,"  he  had  said;  "I  will  return."  And  all 
this  time  he  was  engaged  to  another.  Of  course 
she  knew  he  never  could  be  anything  else  but  a 
dear  friend,  a  sweet,  sacred  memory.  But  he  had 
lied  to  her,  —  the  idol  was  broken.  And  with 
what  brutality  the  truth  had  come  home  to  her ! 
Could  she  ever  like  the  man  who  with  his  coarse 
fist  had  destroyed  one  of  her  most  cherished  ideals  ? 
Never  would  she  allow  him  to  replace  the  plain 
little  band  with  his  gaudy  sparkling  gem;  what 
mattered?  she  loved  it  still  for  the  dear,  beauti- 
ful past.  She  put  her  hand  behind  her,  child 
fashion,  and  burst  into  tears. 

"Make  him  go  away,"  she  said.  "I  —  I  will 
not  wear  his  ring.  At  least  —  not  yet.  Please, 
please  give  me  time  to  get  used  to  it."  She  ran 
out  of  the  room,  and  they  could  hear  her  sob  all 
the  way  up  the  stairs.  And  thus  ended  Herr 
Goldman's  first  attempt  at  wooing. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

WHEN  Carnival  came,  Jette,  as  was  agreed 
upon,  went  to  Cologne  to  pay  her  promised  visit 
to  Madame  Goldman.  She  was  seventeen  now, 


188  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

and  getting  accustomed  to  the  idea  that  in  the 
time  to  come  she  was  to  wed  the  banker.  The 
Frau  Pastorin  preached  it  to  her,  the  Herr  Pastor 
seemed  to  regard  it  as  settled,  and  Babbett  con- 
stantly sang  paeans  in  his  praise.  That  a  great, 
rich  man  should  be  so  foolishly  in  love  with  a 
mere  chit  like  Jette,  —  't  was  inconceivable.  Why, 
she  had  hardly  commenced  to  wear  long  frocks,  — 
she  had  no  family,  no  dowry,  —  the  very  chemise 
to  her  back  he  would  have  to  give  her.  To  be 
sure,  she  had  grown  up  into  a  right  trim  maid; 
but  thou  dear  Heaven !  that  was  no  reason  why  a 
man  with  more  riches  than  he  could  count  in  a 
lifetime  should  make  a  complete  fool  of  himself 
over  her.  'Twas  enough  to  make  one  feel  like 
shaking  him,  only  to  see  him  look  at  her.  And 
she,  the  foolish  little  chit,  —  she  had  no  more 
appreciation  of  the  wonderful  unheard-of  good 
luck  that  had  befallen  her  than  if  she  were  the 
veriest  idiot  that  ever  was  born.  Why  did  not 
some  one  speak  the  plain,  unvarnished  truth  to 
her,  and  pound  the  sense  into  her  she  so  sadly 
needed!  There  was  the  Herr  Pastor  and  the 
Frau  Pastorin  —  dear  Heaven!  they  took  every- 
thing as  a  matter  of  course  —  as  if  the  girl  were 
a  princess,  and  entitled  to  all  the  splendor  and 
magnificence  awaiting  her,  instead  of  a  beggar 
maid  picked  up  from  the  highway. 

"See  here,  thou  she-donkey,"  said  the  irate 
Babbett ;  "  hast  no  sense  at  all,  then  ?  Dost  think 
rich  bankers  grow  on  trees  like  cherries,  to  be 
shaken  down  and  assorted  at  will?  Nix,  da! 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  189 

With  thy  ten  fingers  and  thy  ten  toes  to  boot, 
shouldst  thou  snatch  at  such  a  chance.  'T  is 
seemly  and  maidenly  in  thee  to  pretend  a  little 
diffidence.  No  one  would  find  fault  with  thee  for 
that.  'T  is  a  clever  stimulant  to  a  lover's  eager- 
ness, and  enhances  thy  own  value  besides.  But 
thou  carriest  the  thing  too  far.  The  most  patient 
man  —  Lord  save  the  mark  —  the  most  persistent, 
I  mean  —  will  not  stand  it.  See  thou  to  it  thou 
dost  not  weary  him  out.  Dost  think  such  afiother 
chance  will  ever  offer  itself  again  to  thee?" 

Jette  listened  in  silence,  with  wide-open,  wor- 
ried eyes.  Her  whole  world  was  changed  since 
this  hateful  man  had  dropped  into  it.  She  did 
not  like  him ;  the  more  she  saw  of  him,  the  deeper 
her  aversion  to  him  grew.  When  he  looked  at 
her,  she  felt  herself  sicken  all  over,  —  it  was  as  if 
some  one  had  deadly  insulted  her.  The  clasp  of 
his  hand  felt  cold  and  clammy  to  her  shrinking 
touch.  She  had  to  clench  her  teeth  not  to  shriek 
out  with  horror  whenever  he  came  close  to  her. 
The  Frau  Pastorin  scolded  her,  and  called  it 
childish  absurdity.  "Thou  'It  grow  out  of  it,"  she 
said  cheerfully ;  "the  years  bring  wisdom."  But 
in  her  inmost  heart  Jette  felt  she  never  would. 
Between  the  intervals  of  the  flying  visits  the  banker 
paid  during  the  winter,  she  had  tried  to  school 
herself  into  the  possibility  of  some  regard  for  him. 
Surely,  if  ever  lover  merited  it,  he  did.  So  deli- 
cate as  he  was  in  his  generous  munificence,  the 
parsonage  could  hardly  contain  all  his  presents. 
Not  the  most  fastidious  could  have  found  fault 


190  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

with  him,  and  the  Frau  Pastorin  was  very  fas- 
tidious indeed ;  of  the  old-fashioned,  severe  kind, 
who  would  have  thought  it  a  disgrace  and  humilia- 
tion for  a  girl  not  formally  engaged  to  accept  any 
but  the  most  perishable  gifts.  He  came  loaded 
each  time,  but  it  was  always  something  the  whole 
family  could  enjoy.  Flowers  in  the  depth  of  win- 
ter, which  fairly  made  one's  heart  expand  with 
rapture ;  roses,  as  if  picked  fresh  out  of  the  gar- 
den; camellias,  with  their  cold,  waxen  bloom;  vio- 
lets, which  could  make  a  sick  person  well  only 
to  look  at;  mignonette,  the  darlings  of  the  Frau 
Pastorin's  heart.  The  house  looked  like  a  con- 
servatory; never  since  the  Herr  Pastor's  vener- 
able grandfather  built  it  had  it  contained  luxuries 
such  as  these.  And  the  beautiful  satin-lined 
boxes  of  bonbons  he  brought,  veritable  coffers  they 
'were  for  size,  —  nay,  was  it  not  a  shame  to  spend 
such  an  amount  of  money  in  such  perishable  trifles  ? 
The  bottom  shelf  in  the  linen -press  had  to  be 
emptied  of  its  contents  to  make  way  for  the  huge 
bottles  of  Maria  Farina;  there  was  so  much  one 
could  have  bathed  in  it  and  never  missed  any,  had 
one  chosen.  But  Jette  never  chose  to.  Had  the 
flowers  and  the  distilled  waters  come  from  any  one 
else,  she  would  have  been  beside  herself  with 
rapture.  The  beautiful,  innocent  things  came  in 
for  the  same  aversion  she  felt  for  their  donor. 

"I  don't  like  him,"  she  would  repeat,  always 
with  the  same  terrified  persistence.  It  was  all 
she  had  to  say  now  to  Babbett's  remonstrances. 

"Nobody  expects  thee  to  fall  down  and  worship 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  191 

him,"  said  the  old  peasant  woman  angrily; 
"'twould  not  at  all  be  seemly  in  a  well-brought-up 
maid.  Though  how  thou  canst  refrain  from  put- 
ting thy  arms  around  his  neck  and  thanking  him 
for  such  lovely  gifts  is  more  than  I  can  under- 
stand. May  the  gnats  sting  me  if  I  can  make 
thee  out.  One  would  think  thou  'd  dance  and 
leap  and  sing  for  very  joy." 

"I  wish  he  had  never  set  eyes  on  me,"  said  the 
girl,  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"Have  a  care,"  said  Babbett  solemnly,  "lest 
the  Lord  punish  thee  for  thy  wicked  ingratitude. 
I  suppose  thou  never  once  considerest  how  won- 
derfully He  has  done  by  thee.  Thou  mayst  read 
of  such  things  in  thy  romances,  but  let  me  assure 
thee  that  not  once  in  a  million  years  do  they  occur 
in  real  life.  Suppose  anything  were  to  happen 
to  the  Herr  Pastor  or  the  Frau  Pastor  in,  where 
couldst  thou  go?  What  would  become  of  thee? 
Thou  couldst  do  nothing  but  go  to  service,  and 
that,  thou  knowest  very  well,  thou  'rt  not  fit  for. 
Perhaps,  as  thou  growest  older,  young  men  may 
come  and  admire  thee.  They  may  even  go  to  the 
length  of  loving  thee,  for  thou  art  likely  to  be 
a  right  trim  maid;  so  much  I  '11  not  deny  thee. 
But  I,  who  know  something  of  their  wiles,  know 
exactly  what  they  '11  do.  They  '11  go  as  they  have 
come,  wiping  their  mouths  with  the  good  cheer 
they  have  consumed,  jest  and  laugh,  nay,  most 
likely  put  all  sorts  of  foolish  ideas  into  thy  silly 
head.  But  they  '11  not  marry  thee.  For  thou 
hast  no  dowry,  therefore  what  avails  thee  all  the 


192  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

rest !  Years  of  heart-breaking  suspense  thou  wilt 
pass,  till  thy  little  bit  of  good  looks  will  be  faded 
and  worn,  and  everybody  will  laugh  in  scorn  at  the 
old  maid.  Then  thou  'It  be  fine  and  sorry,  eh?  " 

She  looked  at  Babbett  in  helpless  consternation. 
What  wisdom  there  seemed  in  her  words !  Was 
it  really  true  ?  Was  marriage  the  only  haven  in 
which  she  could  find  a  refuge  from  the  dreary 
future  otherwise  awaiting  her  ?  The  helpless  ori- 
entalism in  her  nature  made  her  shrink  with  terror 
from  the  picture. 

"If  only  he  were  not  so  repulsive,"  she  mur- 
mured. 

"Thou  wantest  too  much  for  thy  money,"  said 
the  old  woman  scathingly.  "If  there  were  not 
an  '  if '  and  a  '  but '  in  the  case,  thou  art  scarcely 
the  one  to  have  such  a  piece  of  good  luck  flung 
at  thee.  The  Herr  is  in  love  with  thy  foolish 
face.  There 's  no  accounting  for  taste,  surely. 
'T  is  as  likely  to  fall  on  a  dunghill  as  on  a  rose- 
bed.  What  he  lacks  in  good  looks  himself,  he 
seeks  to  atone  for  in  a  wife.  Wouldst  rather 
have  a  man  grin  and  smirk  at  his  own  donkey 
face  in  the  glass  than  have  eyes  to  spare  for  thee  ? 
For  all  thou  floutest  him,  there  are  plenty  as 
comely  as  thyself,  with  bags  of  money  to  boot, 
who  would  stretch  their  ten  fingers  to  get  him. 
If  thou  art  wise,  thou  'It  hook  him  fast,  when  thou 
goest  up  to  see  his  mother.  Life's  May  comes 
but  once.  That  little  bit  of  a  face  of  thine  is  all 
thou  hast  got.  Make  the  most  of  it  while  thou 
canst." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  193 

"'Tis  all  he  cares  for  in  me,"  she  said  resent- 
fully: 

The  old  woman  stemmed  her  hands  on  her  hips. 
"Now  let  anybody  hear  that!"  she  said  explo- 
sively; "with  what  folly  art  thou  stuffed  full  now? 
What  else  dost  thou  expect  him  to  care  for,  then  ? 
Thou  art  spoiled,  puffed  up  with  thoughts  which 
ought  never  to  have  found  an  abiding-place  in 
thy  brain.  That  comes  of  thy  godless  reading,  I 
trow.  I  told  the  Herr  Doctor  once,  and  I  was 
sure  he  would  tell  the  Frau  Pastorin,  but  nothing 
ever  came  of  it." 

"Ay,  well  I  remember  it,"  said  the  girl  vin- 
dictively. "Thou  gavest  him  the  book  thou 
found' st  under  my  pillow.  But  he  did  not  tell 
his  mother,  as  thou  wert  sure  he  would  do. 
There  is  more  good  in  him  than  I  suspected." 

"In  my  native  town,"  said  Babbett,  "I  knew 
of  a  case  just  like  thine.  The  girl  flouted  her 
lover,  and  kept  him  in  torment  for  years.  Then 
she  sickened  of  the  smallpox.  When  she  arose, 
she  was  a  sight  to  look  at.  Glad  enough  she 
would  have  been  then  to  have  married  him.  But 
he  would  have  none  of  her.  He  went  and  married 
a  girl  with  a  fair,  fresh  face,  and  left  the  other 
one  to  everlasting  sorrow." 

"Yes,"  said  Jette  meditatively,  "that  is  the 
way  Herr  Goldman  cares  for  me." 

"She  only  got  what  she  deserved,"  said  Bab- 
bett; "'twould  serve  thee  right  the  same  way. 
What!  hast  thou  no  pride,  no  ambition?  Think 
how  everybody  in  the  village  would  burst  with 


194  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

envy.  Already  they  are  saying,  'Nay,  the  luck 
of  that  Jette !  Was  ever  the  like  heard  of !  Comes 
a  rich,  fine,  powerful  gentleman  from  Cologne,  a 
Herr  who  can  ride  extra  post  every  day  of  his 
life  if  he  wants  to,  and  asks  to  marry  that  snip 
of  a  girl.'  If  only  thou  hadst  seen  Gret  the 
other  day.  Last  time  the  Herr  Banquier  was 
here,  she  came  to  the  kitchen  door.  She  had 
Lieschen  in  her  arms,  and  the  brat  was  howling 
as  usual.  She  asked  for  thee,  but  I  told  her  thou 
wert  making  thyself  agreeable  in  the  best  room, 
as  thou  hadst  every  right  to  do.  Such  a  face  as 
she  made.  Thou  wouldst  have  sworn  she  was 
twin  sister  to  Black  Peter,  her  ugly  cat,  whom 
everlasting  perdition  seize,  —  the  same  wicked, 
green  squint  eyes,  the  same  devilish  grin,  showing 
the  protruding  teeth  between.  Nay,  I  fancied  I 
saw  her  mop  of  tow  bristle  on  her  head  with  en- 
vious spite.  A  nice  trollop,  truly,  she  is  to  come 
spying  around  here.  I  warrant  thee  I  sent  her 
back  with  her  mouth  full." 

Jette 's  eyes  glistened.  A  great  satisfaction  filled 
her  heart.  Really,  it  would  be  a  fine  triumph 
over  Gret  and  her  ilk  if  she  were  to  drive  away  in 
a  luxurious  traveling  carriage,  with  outriders  in 
livery,  and  come  back  a  great  lady  to  visit  her 
former  home  as  often  as  she  pleased. 

"The  Herr  Pastor  would  not  consent  yet,"  she 
murmured. 

"What,"  said  Babbett,  eagerly  catching  at  her 
meaning,  "the  marriage,  thou  meanest?  Surely 
he  will,  and  only  too  gladly.  If  only  thou  wilt, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  195 

he  will  quickly  enough.  Go  to  Cologne  and  show 
thyself  sensible.  Take  from  thy  finger  that  silly 
black  thing  the  Herr  Baron  gave  thee.  To  be 
sure  he  gave  me  a  handsome  Trinkgeld,  like  the 
nobleman  he  is,  every  inch  of  him.  A  golden 
louis  d'or  it  was.  But  then,  the  Herr  Banquier 
gives  me  the  same  each  time  he  comes.  I  war- 
rant thee  I  have  eight  at  least  to  keep  the  first 
one  company.  Beauties  they  are,  I  tell  thee,  and 
right  merrily  they  chink  in  my  stocking.  But  I 
have  thy  interest  at  heart.  I  know  thou  'It  not 
forget  me  when  thou  art  the  banker's  wife.  And 
only  think  how  thou  couldst  repay  the  Herr  Pastor 
and  the  Frau  Pastor  in  for  all  they  have  done  for 
thee." 

"That  is  true,"  said  Jette,  whose  eyes  sparkled. 

"Thou  couldst  buy  them  each  a  chair  of  solid 
gold,"  said  Babbett;  "kings  and  queens  can't 
have  better  than  that.  'T  would  be  showing  thy 
gratitude  in  a  proper  manner,  eh?  and  cushions 
embroidered  in  gold  and  silver  thou  couldst  have 
made  for  the  seat  and  back.  Some  kind  of  up- 
holstery I  suppose  they  will  need,  otherwise  they 
might  be  uncomfortable  to  sit  on.  And  hark 
thee !  Every  night  while  thou  art  away,  I  '11  look 
in  the  cards  to  make  sure  thou  hast  taken  to  heart 
that  which  I  have  taken  so  much  pains  to  admon- 
ish thee  with." 


196  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE  Frau  Pastorin  was  not  much  behind  Bab- 
bett  in  her  counsel,  when  Jette  was  ready  to  start 
on  her  journey.  To  be  sure,  she  was  not  so  dif- 
fuse, neither  did  she  go  into  as  many  details. 
But  what  she  said  in  her  plain,  practical  man- 
ner was  quite  to  the  point.  She  did  not  think 
Herr  Goldman  an  Adonis,  or  quite  the  person  for 
a  young,  romantic  girl  to  fall  in  love  with.  But 
he  had  what  worldly-wise  people  value  far  more 
highly,  —  the  wherewithal  to  insure  his  wife  a 
future  free  from  all  care.  A  life  of  luxury,  of 
honor  and  ease,  awaited  the  one  who  should  be 
sensible  enough  to  take  advantage  of  the  lucky 
chance.  The  poor  would  rise  up  and  call  her 
blessed.  As  Jette  had  the  Jewish  compassionate 
heart,  and  knew  what  poverty  was  from  her  early 
recollections,  this  reasoning  did  not  fail  to  make 
its  due  impression  on  her.  The  Herr  Pastor  said 
nothing.  With  his  forefinger  and  thumb  he  raised 
her  pretty  chin,  gave  one  of  his  beaming,  heartfelt 
looks  into  her  eyes,  and  told  her  to  enjoy  herself. 
One  could  see  how  very  fond  and  very  proud  he 
was  of  her. 

So  when  Jette  arrived  at  Cologne,  at  the  close 
of  a  crisp,  cold  February  day,  she  was  quite  dis- 
posed to  be  as  gracious  as  possible  to  Herr  Gold- 
man, bearing  in  mind  all  the  good  advice  she  had 
received.  He  met  her  at  the  coach  office,  and 
Hanne  was  with  him.  A  glow  of  happiness  spread 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  197 

over  his  face  when  he  caught  sight  of  the  tall,  slim 
beauty,  as  the  old  post-chaise  rumbled  into  the 
yard !  Of  course,  he  had  been  cooling  his  heels 
and  warming  his  expectations  for  hours  before  the 
stage  was  due.  He  almost  fell  over  himself  as  he 
rushed  forward  to  assist  her  to  alight,  jealously 
pushing  away  the  gallant  guard,  who,  having  un- 
ceremoniously bundled  out  a  pudgy  widow,  smil- 
ingly extended  his  hand  to  the  merry-eyed,  happy 
girl.  She  sprang  to  the  ground,  light  as  a  fawn, 
saying  between  little  gasps  of  cold,  "  Oh,  I  am  so 
glad,  I  could  kiss  everybody."  Then  she  blushed, 
caught  hold  of  Hanne's  arm,  and  ran  with  her  to 
the  warm,  luxurious  carriage  standing  outside. 
Herr  Goldman  smiled  as  if  he  saw  heaven  open, 
thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  flung  a  Trink- 
geld  to  the  guard  which  made  that  worthy's  eyes 
start  from  his  head.  "Now,  but  that  one  must  be 
quite  fearfully  in  love,"  he  soliloquized,  looking 
alternately  at  the  gold  piece  in  his  hand  and  the 
flying  form  of  the  banker,  as  he  hastened  to  fol- 
low the  housekeeper  and  her  young  charge  into  the 
carriage.  So  solicitous  he  was  about  her  comfort ! 
Did  she  have  her  feet  well  ensconced  in  the  fur 
bag?  Hanne,  stoop  down  and  see,  and  make 
quite,  quite  sure  the  dear,  sweet  Fraulein  has 
drawn  it  properly  around  her.  Surely,  her  lovely, 
tiny  feetlets  must  be  perished  with  the  long,  cold 
journey.  Allow  him,  —  he  really  must  draw  the 
rich  sable  he  had  brought  for  her  comfort  a  little 
more  snugly  around  her  shoulders.  And  the  fur 
rug  over  her  knees  —  was  it  sufficient  —  now, 


198  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

really?  Young  ladies  were  so  careless,  they  pre- 
sumed so  much  upon  their  hearty  youth  and  vigor 
—  suppose  she  caught  cold  —  heavens !  he  did  not 
dare  think  of  such  a  misfortune.  Had  she  been 
well  looked  after  on  her  journey  ?  and  so  on,  until 
Hanne  felt  as  if  she  must  box  his  ears,  and  Jette 
exhausted  herself  with  reassuring  him.  He  was 
so  happy,  surely  the  gathering  twilight  caught  an 
afterglow  from  the  reflection  of  his  radiant  face. 
That  happy,  ecstatic  drive,  —  should  he  ever  for- 
get it,  with  that  fair,  heavenly  face  opposite  to 
him !  As  for  Jette,  she  felt  that  it  was  very  good 
to  have  all  this  warmth  and  luxury  instead  of 
the  cold,  cheerless  post-chaise;  the  exhortations 
she  had  received  at  home  still  abode  with  her ;  she 
strove  very  hard  not  to  let  the  repulsion  born  of 
his  presence  dominate  her  this  time.  And  when 
she  found  herself  in  the  arms  of  Madame  Gold- 
man, the  warmth  of  whose  genial  motherly  em- 
brace opened  the  depths  of  her  heart,  her  eyes 
moistened,  and  the  happiness  of  being  so  wel- 
comed was  without  alloy.  As  she  stood  under  the 
brilliantly  lit  chandelier  in  the  magnificent  draw- 
ing-room, Madame  Goldman  looked  at  her  with 
beaming  admiration. 

"She  grows  more  beautiful  all  the  time,"  she 
thought ;  "  what  a  heavenly  creature !  So  divinely 
made,  with  such  gracious  understanding!  One 
can  forgive  Julius's  foolish  raptures  when  one 
sees  her.  Nay,  I  am  quite  in  love  with  her  my- 
self." 

"Draw   off  thy  gloves,   Liebchen,"   she   said, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  199 

"and  let  me  chafe  thy  hands.  Are  they  not 
cold?" 

"Not  one  bit,"  said  Jette  gayly;  "Herr  Gold- 
man made  me  tuck  them  under  the  big  fur  skin. 
He  was  quite  tyrannical,  I  assure  you.  I  was  too 
much  afraid  to  disobey  him." 

The  banker,  who  was  stumping  to  and  fro  with 
his  hands  in  his  pockets,  devouring  her  with  big, 
greedy  looks,  beamed  all  over. 

"  'T  was  for  your  own  good,  though,  you  obeyed 
me,  was  it  not?"  he  said  as  caressingly  as  if  he 
wished  his  tones  were  honey. 

She  pouted  so  enchantingly  that  then  and  there 
he  would  have  bartered  his  fortune  only  to  kiss 
her. 

"I  had  to,  whether  I  wanted  to  or  not,"  she 
said.  Then,  feeling  her  ingratitude,  she  said  with 
infinite  sweetness,  "Of  course  you  knew  best." 

"Ah,"  he  exclaimed  in  rapture,  "if  only  you 
would  always  think  so !  If  only  you  would  come 
to  see  how  all  my  striving  is  solely  for  your  com- 
fort and  to  please  you.  I  do  not  ask  anything 
but  a  kind  word,  a  loving  look  in  return.  Try 
while  you  are  here  to  think  of  me  as  a  little  nearer 
to  you.  You  shall  step  on  roses  all  the  days  of 
your  life.  I  will  pierce  my  flesh  to  pull  out  the 
thorns  so  they  shall  not  touch  you." 

Now,  she  discovered  with  dismay  that,  in  spite 
of  her  schooling,  the  old  horror  clutched  her 
whenever  he  became  impassioned,  or  came  near 
her.  It  was  stronger  than  all  her  endeavors ;  it 
engulfed  her  like  an  avalanche  under  which  she 


200  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

knew  she  must  perish.  The  rosy  bloom  withered 
in  her  young  cheek  to  ghastly  pallor;  she  clenched 
her  teeth  to  restrain  their  frozen  chatter.  One 
hand  she  put  to  her  eyes,  to  shield  them  from  the 
telltale  light. 

"It  blinds  me,"  she  said. 

The  banker  furiously  rung  the  bell,  and  com- 
manded the  agitated  footman,  who  hurriedly  an- 
swered, to  lower  the  lights. 

"You  have  only  to  breathe  a  wish,"  he  said, 
"and  it  shall  be  obeyed." 

"If  thou  wouldst  only  restrain  thyself,"  said 
his  mother,  when  Jette  had  gone  to  her  room  to 
make  herself  presentable  for  dinner;  "there  is  too 
much  passion  in  thy  wooing;  thou  continually 
forgettest  her  youth  and  innocence.  Instead  of 
pleasing,  thou  frightenest  her.  Thou  hast  only 
had  dealings  with  wily,  experienced  women  of 
the  world.  In  this  wise  thou  'It  never  gain  her 
regard." 

Herr  Goldman  kicked  a  costly  embroidered 
hassock  out  of  his  way,  and  angrily  rumpled  his 
hair. 

"Thou,  too,"  he  said,  "turnest  against  me. 
Dost  think  I  do  not  know  the  difference  between 
her  fresh  innocence  and  a  strumpet  of  a  coquette? 
'Tis  that  which  beguiles,  befools  me.  There  is 
a  majesty  about  her  which  abases  me  to  the  dust. 
There  is  something  in  her  air,  her  manner,  the 
way  she  looks  at  one,  which  stirs  feeling  to  its  pro- 
foundest  depths.  I  tell  thee,  when  a  man  of  my 
age  thinks  so,  'tis  serious.  'Tis  then  his  life's 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  201 

happiness  or  misery  hangs  in  the  balance.  Oh, 
I  tell  thee,  if  she  does  not  relent,  she  will  make 
a  madman  of  me." 

" Scorn  her,"  said  his  mother  ;  "flout  her. 
Show  her  thou  art  a  man,  and  hast  to  be  won 
from  thy  superior  height.  Wrap  thyself  in  thy 
power;  coquet  with  others;  let  her  come  to  the 
knowledge  that  they  appreciate  and  value  thee. 
Treat  her  with  condescension;  be  supercilious; 
ignore  her.  So  shalt  thou  win  her,  not  by  bend- 
ing thy  neck  to  the  yoke." 

"I  know  all  that  and  more,"  groaned  the 
banker;  "I  am  an  ass,  a  fool,  an  idiot,  where 
she  is  concerned.  I  have  no  more  control  over 
my  feelings  than  the  callowest  hobbledehoy  when 
near  her.  There  all  worldly  wisdom  fails.  I 
would  be  willing  she  should  give  me  blows  with 
one  hand,  providing  she  caressed  me  with  the 
other." 

"So  speaks  a  slave,"  said  his  mother,  with 
scorn,  "not  a  man  with  an  appreciation  of  the 
manhood  within  him.  Thou  gettest  this  disposi- 
tion from  thy  father,  who,  being  a  man  in  all 
other  affairs  of  life,  is  slavish  in  his  affections. 
Would  to  Heaven  I  could  dispossess  thee  of  thy 
spirit,  and  lend  thee  mine  awhile.  We  have  only 
to  will  to  gain  that  which  we  strive  for  the  most." 

Just  then  Jette  came  in,  her  blue  cashmere 
dress  clothing  her  like  the  purple  of  majesty,  a 
cluster  of  pink  roses  stuck  in  her  bosom.  As  she 
had  developed  in  grace  and  beauty,  the  air  of 
pride  and  nobility  which  had  distinguished  her 


202  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

already  as  a  child  had  developed  also.  She 
looked  like  a  young  queen  at  whose  gracious  smile 
warriors  were  ready  to  bend  the  knee.  Madame 
Goldman  and  the  infatuated  banker  could  not 
take  their  eyes  off  her. 

"Look,"  she  said,  strutting  up  and  down  under 
the  chandelier :  "this  is  my  first  long  dress,  my  first 
really  long  dress.  Do  you  see?  It  has  a  train. 
A  train !  just  think.  I  hardly  know  how  to  walk 
in  it.  All  the  same,  it  looks  pretty.  When  I 
tried  it  on,  I  could  not  contain  myself  for  pride 
and  joy.  I  ran  all  the  way  home  to  let  them  see 
it.  The  dressmaker  was  furious.  She  said  I 
came  near  spoiling  it.  Do  you  think  I  manage 
the  train  properly?  Those  dear,  beautiful  look- 
ing-glasses! One  can  see  one's  whole  length  in 
them.  Oh,  I  think  it  is  lovely." 

Mother  and  son  laughed  at  her  innocent  child- 
ish vanity.  It  was  so  delightfully  novel.  Ma- 
dame Goldman  had  never  indulged  in  the  frip- 
peries of  young  girlhood.  Amid  all  the  splendors 
of  her  surroundings,  her  youth  had  passed  un- 
heeded and  alone.  Sadly  she  thought  of  the  early 
doll-playing  time,  when  she  had  shut  herself  up  in 
the  attic,  terrified  because  of  the  duties  and  re- 
sponsibilities thrust  upon  her.  Alone  in  her  mag- 
nificent mansion,  she  had  never  known  the  sweet 
communion  of  young  companionship;  for  as  a 
married  woman  she  belonged  to  the  matrons,  who 
would  have  none  of  her,  and  the  young  of  her 
own  age  were  busy  with  their  schoolbooks.  In 
solitude  she  had  developed  a  strong  individuality 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  203 

of  character,  which,  without  personal  beauty, 
made  her  a  most  fascinating  and  much-sought- 
after  woman,  the  idol  alike  of  both  husband  and 
son,  the  shining  light  of  the  society  she  adorned, 
the  judicious  benefactor  of  the  poor,  and  the 
providence  of  the  needy  too  proud  to  beg.  But 
youth  with  its  fripperies  and  foibles,  its  vanities 
and  its  failings,  its  careless  gayety  and  pulsing 
joy  of  life,  she  had  never  known.  It  made  her 
sad  when  she  saw  this  young  girl  in  her  innocent 
conceit  pucker  her  smooth  brow  over  the  serious 
question  whether  her  first  train  sat  well  on  her 
or  not. 

"Thou  peacock,"  she  said,  "hast  thou  admired 
thyself  enough?  Never,  I  vow,  have  these  mir- 
rors seen  such  a  piece  of  vanity." 

"Do  you  think  I  am  vain?"  said  Jette  anx- 
iously. She  blushed,  and  turned  away  from  the 
reflection  of  herself.  "Nay,  I  would  not  have 
that  said  of  me  for  the  world.  'T  is  such  a  plea- 
sure to  see  one's  whole  length  in  the  glass.  I  had 
no  idea  my  dress  looked  so  nice."  She  patted  it 
complacently,  and  cast  glances  at  herself  from  the 
tail  of  her  eye.  "  'T  is  only  since  I  have  gone  to 
the  dressmaker  I  have  dared  to  see  how  I  look. 
She  insisted  I  should  judge  for  myself  how  my 
things  fitted  me.  Before  then  I  did  not  dare  do 
so.  Of  all  heinous  sins,  the  Frau  Pastor  in  con- 
siders vanity  the  worst.  Babbett  used  to  tell  me 
that  if  ever  I  was  caught  looking  in  the  glass 
while  the  clock  struck  the  hour,  I  should  be  turned 
into  stone.  Of  course  I  haven't  believed  that  for 


204  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

a  long  time.  All  the  same,  it  used  to  make  me 
afraid." 

"Then  thou  hast  never  admired  thyself  before, 
eh?"  said  Madame  Goldman.  The  banker  sat 
in  a  fauteuil,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  Her 
chatter  was  sweeter  to  him  than  the  most  divine 
music. 

She  opened  her  eyes  very  wide.  "Admire  my- 
self,—  why  should  I  do  that?  'T would  be  very 
foolish,  I  should  think.  One  likes  to  see  if  one's 
hair  is  smooth  or  one's  dress  sits  properly.  If  I 
am  especially  anxious  to  know,  I  run  down  to  the 
brook  in  our  orchard.  There  I  can  see  myself 
full  length.  My  glass  is  so  small,  —  about  so 
big."  She  held  up  the  length  of  her  finger. 

"And  didst  thou  look  in  the  brook  long?" 
asked  Madame  Goldman. 

"Of  course,"  she  said  complacently,  "I  looked 
as  long  as  I  pleased,  for  there  was  no  one  to  chide 
me.  Sometimes,  if  I  thought  I  looked  more  than 
usually  nice,  I  would  take  out  my  knitting  so  as 
not  to  appear  lazy,  and  look  in  the  brook  all  the 
time." 

She  was  somewhat  confused  at  the  hearty  fit  of 
laughter  in  which  both  mother  and  son  joined. 

"Where  didst  thou  get  thy  pretty  roses?  " 
asked  Madame  Goldman. 

"From  the  bouquet  on  my  dressing-table. 
Herr  Goldman,  I  want  so  much  to  thank  you. 
Of  course  it  was  you  who  put  it  there." 

"How  do  you  know?  "  he  said,  all  in  a  tremor 
of  delight. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  205 

"Because,"  she  said  positively,  "no  one  but 
you  would  have  thought  of  it." 

"Don't  you  think,"  said  his  mother,  "so  much 
forethought  ought  to  be  rewarded?" 

"Yes,"  she  said  somewhat  uneasily,  "I  will  give 
him  a  pretty  rosebud." 

"Thou  canst  give  him  something  far  more  pre- 
cious," said  Madame  Goldman,  "without  depriv- 
ing thyself  of  thy  bud." 

"I  will  take  the  rosebud  gladly,"  said  the 
banker  eagerly,  seeing  her  turn  pale  again;  "only 
you  must  finish  your  gracious  deed,  and  fasten  it 
in  the  buttonhole  of  my  coat." 

He  stumped  towards  her  as  she  pretended  to 
select  a  flower  with  great  care.  She  was  by  a 
head  and  shoulders  taller  than  he,  so  she  had  to 
look  down  upon  him  as  she  tried  to  fasten  the 
flower.  They  were  just  opposite  one  of  the  great 
mirrors.  As  they  stood  side  by  side,  he  looked 
at  their  reflection  just  as  she  happened  to  raise 
her  eyes.  The  flower  dropped  from  her  hand  and 
fell  at  his  feet  leaf  by  leaf.  The  footman  flung 
aside  the  heavy  draperies  and  announced  that 
dinner  was  served. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

IN  the  dining-room  Jette  made  her  curtsy  to 
Goldman  senior  and  Uncle  Emanuel.  She  felt 
instinctively  that  both  disliked  her.  The  elder 
banker  did  not  at  all  look  with  favor  upon  his 


206  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

son's  suit.  He  believed  in  the  good  old-fashioned 
Oriental  custom,  where  parents  selected  suitable 
husbands  or  wives  for  their  children,  without  any 
reference  to  individual  tastes.  He  ridiculed  the 
idea  of  personal  sentiment,  taking  it  for  granted 
that  each  adjusted  himself  to  the  other  after  mar- 
riage. It  had  been  so  with  him  and  with  every- 
body else  he  knew.  But  his  son  had  disappointed 
him  in  more  ways  than  one.  He  had  led  a  fast, 
dissipated  life  ever  since  he  was  barely  grown  up. 
With  this  the  old  gentleman  would  not  have  found 
so  much  fault.  Early  partner  in  the  bank,  with 
unlimited  means  at  his  command,  it  was  but  natural 
that  many  temptations  should  be  placed  in  his  way. 
Though  for  the  matter  of  that,  the  old  gentleman 
argued  that  he  had  been  young  once  himself,  but 
had  never  indulged  in  such  spendthrift  proclivities. 
Temperate  and  frugal  by  nature,  he  was  the  soul 
of  simplicity.  While  his  son  drove  thoroughbred 
horses  a  king  might  have  envied,  the  old  gentleman 
walked  to  and  fro  from  the  bank  in  his  thin,  low- 
cut  buckled  shoes.  His  wife  had  her  brougham, 
her  landau,  and  her  pair  of  smart  ponies,  but  let 
the  weather  be  never  so  bad,  not  once  did  he  avail 
himself  of  either  unless  she  insisted  upon  it. 
When  compelled  to  go  away  on  business,  he  in- 
variably traveled  third  class,  and  wrangled  over 
the  fare  of  a  droschke  until  he  tired  out  the 
driver.  His  son  spent  more  on  choice  cigars  and 
flowers  in  one  day  than  the  father's  entire  hotel 
bill  amounted  to.  But  the  presents  he  would 
bring  home  to  his  wife  were  costly  enough  to 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  207 

make  a  queen  envious.     He  wanted  nothing  for 
himself,   all  his  hopes  were  centred  in  his  son. 
And   here   he   was,    close   upon   thirty,   and   not 
married  yet.     Every  suitable  opportunity  he  had 
flouted,  and  now  he  was  running  after  a  pauper 
of  a  girl  whom  they  would  be  ashamed  to  intro- 
duce into  the   family.     The  old   gentleman   dis- 
trusted Jette;   he  distrusted   her   loyalty  to   the 
faith  of  her  fathers ;  he  distrusted  the  manner  in 
which  she  had  been  brought  up.     She  showed  it 
plainly  enough.     She  was  so  different  from  the 
girls  brought  up  and  surrounded  by  the  influences 
of   their   faith.     What   attracted  his   son  was   a 
grave  source  of  apprehension  to  him.     Julius  had 
gone  over  heart  and  soul  to  the  radicals ;  he  was 
an  ardent  adherent  of   the  famous   Dr.   Geiger, 
who,  as  the  pioneer  and  champion  of  the  reform 
movement,   ran  the  gauntlet  of   the  most  bitter 
enmity  of  the  old  orthodox  set  to  which  the  old 
gentleman  belonged.     He  saw  the  thin  edge  of 
the  wedge  which  was  destined,  as   he  imagined, 
to  make  apostates  in  heart,  if  not  in  deed,  of  the 
glorious  old  religion.     He  did  not  see  the  dawn 
of  a  new  and  more  tolerant  era,  he  only  saw  the 
dismemberment   of    the   faith.     The   infusion   of 
new  blood,  lest  it  should  starve  of  its  own  anae- 
mic condition,  he  regarded  as  a  blasphemy.     The 
exigencies  of  the  times  were  naught  to  him.     He 
wanted  the  old  faith  to  remain  intact ;  innovations 
or  modifications  had  no  concern  with  religion,  but 
stank  of  the  devil.     He  considered  himself  privi- 
leged that  he  was  born   a  Jew.     He  would  not 


208  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

slink  through  the  slime  of  obsequiousness  as  if 
apologizing  for  what  he  was.  He  knew  himself 
to  be  a  power  among  his  own  people,  and  like 
a  sovereign  he  stood  his  ground  against  the  mighty 
onsweeping  tide  which  he  foresaw  neither  he  nor 
those  after  him  would  be  strong  enough  to  stem. 
He  was  proud  of  the  old  faith,  proud  of  its  an- 
cient traditions,  proud  of  its  dead  and  past  glories, 
proud  of  its  preeminence  when  all  others  were  in 
their  swaddling-clothes,  proud  of  the  parent  stem 
from  which  the  world's  history  had  sprung,  proud 
of  its  sufferings,  its  humiliations,  and  its  shame. 
Not  one  iota  of  concession  would  he  make,  fling- 
ing away  the  solid  kernel  to  retain  the  frail  husk. 
He  was  glad  he  would  not  be  among  the  living 
should  this  ever  come  to  pass.  At  dawn  when  he 
arose,  he  flung  his  thalis  around  his  shoulders, 
strapped  the  sacred  scroll  upon  his  wrists  and 
brow,  and  lifted  his  eyes  and  his  voice  in  heartfelt 
worship  to  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  who  had  so 
miraculously  delivered  his  own  from  the  bondage 
of  Egypt.  The  same  bondage  existed  still,  though 
it  was  in  another  form.  No  truckling  and  bowing 
to  those  who  had  scourged  them  with  the  whip  of 
oppression  and  opprobrium  for  ages;  'twas  for 
them  to  hold  out  the  hand  of  fellowship  and 
amity,  if  at  last  a  new  era  should  dawn  and  make 
the  world  what  it  was  intended  to  be,  a  gift  from 
the  Almighty  Creator,  His  garden,  in  which  all 
should  dwell  alike  in  peace  and  harmony,  until  it 
pleased  Him  in  his  own  good  time  to  call  the 
wanderer  home. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  209 

"Hear,  O  Israel;  the  Lord  thy  God  is  One 
Eternal,  Everlasting  Being,"  he  prayed  aloud,  his 
lean  frame  quivering  with  impassioned  fervor, 
exalted  reverence  in  his  bowed  attitude  and  voice. 
His  piety  was  heartfelt  and  sincere.  He  was 
not  ungrateful  to  the  Creator  of  all  things,  this 
shabby,  snuffy  old  financier.  He  had  no  ideals, 
no  superstitions.  His  religion  was  a  living  fact 
to  him,  its  forms  and  ceremonies  a  necessary  ex- 
pression. It  was  the  giant  rock  against  which,  let 
contention  dash  itself  never  so  wildly,  he  rested 
in  perfect  security.  "Hear,  O  Israel;  the  Lord 
thy  God  is  One  Eternal,  Everlasting  Being."  It 
was  a  grand,  inspiring  rhythm,  which  would  make 
music  in  his  heart  when  that  Lord  God  summoned 
him  to  eternal  sleep,  and  would  be  the  trumpet 
refrain  which,  with  its  stirring  notes,  would  rouse 
him.  He  devoutly  believed  in  the  restoration  of 
the  glories  of  Jerusalem,  not  as  mortals  interpret 
it,  but  as  the  Almighty  in  his  own  divine  power 
will  bring  it  about,  and  that,  when  all  other 
dynasties  shall  have  had  their  day  and  lie  crum- 
bling in  the  dust,  Judah,  of  all  other  nations,  will 
rear  its  head,  and,  like  another  phoenix,  arise 
from  its  ashes  with  more  than  olden-time  splen- 
dor, to  reign  preeminently  and  alone.  "For  the 
heart  of  the  Jew  never  dies,"  he  said.  He  stood 
in  the  synagogue  on  fast  days,  clad  in  his  shroud, 
his  feet  never  stirring  from  the  spot,  his  voice 
never  ceasing  to  uplift  itself  in  lamentation  and 
prayer  from  sunrise  to  sundown.  His  beseechings 
were  not  alone  for  himself  or  his;  they  took  in 


210  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

every  one  of  his  people.  Close  to  stinginess  in 
his  own  personal  expenses,  he  was  lavishly  gener- 
ous to  his  family,  and  munificent  in  his  charities 
to  the  poor.  Of  him  it  might  truly  be  said  that 
his  right  hand  knew  not  what  his  left  hand  did. 
Unswervingly  just,  upright,  and  scrupulously  hon- 
est, his  word  was  his  bond  with  all  creeds  and 
nations. 

Goldman  fils  regarded  his  father's  religious 
aspirations  with  tolerant  contempt.  He  looked 
upon  them  as  relics  of  the  past  and  calculated  to 
foster  prejudice.  He  went  even  further  than  the 
most  progressive  of  the  progressive  party.  Creed 
and  religion  were  synonymous  terms  with  him. 
It  was  entirely  a  matter  of  circumstance  over 
which  no  one  had  any  control.  The  faith  which 
consoles,  the  spirituality  which  ennobles  and  re- 
fines, makes  one  suffer  and  endure,  had  no  place 
in  his  calculations.  The  forms  and  ceremonies 
which  were  the  darlings  of  his  father's  heart  he 
regarded  as  remnants  of  old-time  superstitions. 
No  doubt  they  were  right  and  proper  when  first 
practiced.  In  those  obsolete  times  it  was  neces- 
sary to  have  a  visible  religion  in  order  to  be  duly 
impressed.  It  was  necessary  to  see  as  well  as  to 
feel.  The  traditions  which  his  father  venerated 
were  no  more  to  him  than  the  ancient  traditions 
of  Greece  and  Rome.  Both  had  had  their  day. 
Both  had  fallen  to  make  way  for  others,  which 
in  their  turn  would  fall.  It  was  an  inevitable 
law  of  nature,  and  would  be  so  to  the  end  of 
time.  He  had  ideals,  but  no  spirituality.  He 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  211 

was  generous,  but  ostentatious.  Whenever  he 
gave,  he  liked  it  to  be  well  known.  In  his  busi- 
ness transactions  he  was  daring  to  the  verge  of 
imprudence,  but  he  took  good  care  never  to  over- 
step it.  The  name  and  fame  of  Goldman  were 
very  dear  to  him.  Proud,  vain,  and  passionate, 
scheming  and  insatiably  ambitious,  his  aspirations 
soared  far  higher  than  his  father  dreamed  of. 
He  aimed  at  the  distinction  of  being  somebody  in 
the  great  world ;  to  break  down  the  barriers  which 
all  his  wealth  could  not  storm.  To  this  end  he 
had  steadily  refused  to  consider  the  most  advan- 
tageous matches  submitted  to  his  consideration. 
He  did  not  want  a  wife  whose  Oriental  appearance 
would  give  offense  to  the  society  he  sought,  and 
would  debar  him  from  crossing  its  threshold. 
But  with  Jette  he  knew  he  could  storm  the  citadel 
and  conquer  it  in  triumph.  Who  knows?  He 
might  be  received  at  court  —  he  would  be  created 
a  baron  —  Baron  and  Baroness  von  Goldman  — 
delightful  sound !  He  rolled  the  names  over  his 
tongue  with  epicurean  enjoyment.  He  saw  even 
further  than  this.  Once  let  him  have  a  sure  foot- 
ing, and  then  the  world  should  talk  of  him. 
Backed  by  such  wealth  as  he  possessed,  his  prestige 
in  the  financial  world,  his  shrewd  wit  to  seize  hold 
of  the  right  opportunity  and  make  the  most  of  it, 
he  might  climb  to  any  height  he  chose.  "The 
great  and  powerful  Goldman,"  that  is  what  people 
should  call  him.  Not  once  did  it  occur  to  him 
to  utilize  his  opportunities  to  benefit  those  of  his 
own  race.  He  wanted  to  soar  alone,  and  from 


212  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

his  lofty  eminence  look  down  with  contempt  upon 
less  fortunate  ones. 

As  is  common  with  such  natures,  he  had  in- 
dulged his  passions,  but  his  heart  had  never  been 
touched.  To  his  credit  let  it  be  said  that  he 
really  and  truly  loved  the  beautiful  girl  he  was 
eager  to  make  his  wife.  That  she  would  help 
him  to  accomplish  his  social  ambitions  greatly 
enhanced  her  value  in  his  mind.  As  she  devel- 
oped in  grace  and  beauty,  and  he  caught  occa- 
sional glimpses  of  her  well-trained  intellect,  there 
entered  into  his  feeling  for  her  what  he  had  never 
felt  for  any  woman  save  his  mother  before  —  re- 
spect. He  had  the  real  Oriental  contempt  for 
women,  whom  he  looked  upon  as  an  inevitably 
necessary  part  of  creation  in  order  to  minister  to 
man's  comfort  alone.  Secure  in  the  feeling  of 
his  own  worth,  he  never  dreamed  that  her  avoid- 
ance of  him  arose  from  personal  dislike.  Like 
the  rest,  he  attributed  it  to  girlish  diffidence.  If 
the  Pastor  had  not  been  such  a  country  bumpkin 
in  his  obstinately  starched  views,  he  argued,  and 
had  disposed  of  the  girl  as  was  customary  among 
the  people  he  knew,  she  would  have  been  his  wife 
long  ago.  What  did  a  young  girl  know  of  what 
was  best  for  her?  What  business  had  she  with 
views  of  her  own?  A  husband  was  selected  for 
her  by  her  guardians,  a  short  courtship  followed, 
and  they  were  married.  The  rest  adjusted  itself 
as  naturally  and  as  nicely  as  any  one  could  wish. 

Therefore,  sore  as  he  felt  about  it,  he  tried  to 
gird  his  soul  with  patience.  Secretly,  both  he 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  213 

and  his  mother  agreed  that  they  would  make  the 
most  of  the  present  opportunity  to  gain  Jette's 
consent.  Then  the  Pastor  would  have  to  give  his 
also,  and  this  wearisome  probation  would  end. 
So  Jette,  all  unsuspicious,  went  about  and  enjoyed 
herself.  She  wrote  home  twice  a  week,  as  she  had 
been  told  to  do.  Rapturous  accounts  they  were 
of  festivities  she  attended.  She  had  been  to  her 
first  ball,  a  real  ball,  where  there  were  crowds  of 
beautifully  dressed  people,  and  the  flash  of  jewels 
had  blinded  one's  eyesight  like  the  lightning,  —  a 
floor,  slippery  enough  to  trip  one  up  had  one  not 
been  guided  by  a  strong  arm,  but,  oh,  so  perfectly 
delightful  to  glide  over  to  the  strains  of  Strauss 's 
ravishing  music.  And  it  was  played  by  a  band 
of  skilled  musicians;  it  was  even  better  than  the 
one  which  played  on  the  promenade  every  after- 
noon. And  she  had  looked  nice,  — at  least  every- 
body told  her  so.  Her  white  muslin  had  been  the 
simplest  dress  in  the  room,  but  Madame  Goldman 
quite  approved  of  it,  saying  it  was  the  most  ap- 
propriate thing  for  a  young  girl  to  wear.  But 
the  maid  had  looped  it  here  and  there  with  such 
beautiful  pink  ribbons,  and  her  flowers  had  been 
the  handsomest  in  the  room ;  really,  she  was  satis- 
fied she  looked  as  well  as  anybody.  And  she  had 
danced,  —  her  card  was  full  before  she  had  fairly 
entered  the  room.  She  had  danced  a  big  hole  in 
her  white  satin  slipper,  right  clear  through  the 
stocking.  It  had  taken  her  a  whole  morning  to 
darn  it  neatly. 

Madame  Goldman  was  as  much  sought  after 


214  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

as  the  most  spoilt  beauty.  At  forty -five  she  was 
younger  than  she  had  been  at  twenty.  Her  card 
filled  up  rapidly  from  the  moment  she  entered  a 
ball-room.  She  was  as  light  of  foot  as  a  ballet 
dancer,  spite  of  her  short  stout,  figure.  While 
her  snuffy  old  husband  slept  at  home,  there  was 
hardly  a  ball  of  any  importance  she  did  not  attend 
with  Julius.  Only  since  he  was  grown  up  had 
she  commenced  to  live ;  and  at  middle  age  she  en- 
joyed what  in  her  youth  she  had  missed. 

"Liebchen,"  she  said  to  Jette,  who  had  danced 
opposite  to  her  in  the  quadrille,  "  't  is  time  we 
went  home.  See,  there  is  Julius  beckoning. 
Hast  thou  enjoyed  thy  first  ball?  Hardly  have 
I  caught  a  glimpse  of  thee  all  night.  Thou 
oughtest  to  have  heard  all  the  pretty  things  that 
were  said  to  me  about  thee.  Nay,  thou  need'st  not 
blush.  We  all  know  what  such  sayings  amount 
to.  Nevertheless,  't  is  nice  to  hear  them,  eh  ? 
Now  thou  must  not  pout.  By  the  time  we  are 
home,  dawn  will  be  streaking  the  sky.  Console 
thyself.  Plenty  more  dances  will  follow.  But 
thou  must  learn  to  take  them  temperately.  I 
cannot  afford  to  have  thee  return  home  pale  and 
wan.  It  would  be  a  poor  inducement  for  thy 
next  visit." 

After  all,  it  was  quite  well  on  in  the  gray  of 
the  morning  before  they  were  allowed  to  depart. 
Jette  accompanied  Madame  Goldman  to  her  bou- 
doir, where  the  fire  burned  merrily  in  the  hand- 
some porcelain  stove,  and  the  maid  stood  ready 
with  freshly  brewed  coffee.  She  flung  off  her 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  215 

wrap  with  a  sigh  of  appreciation  at  the  luxury  of 
such  a  home-coming.  After  all,  it  was  a  very 
desirable  thing  to  be  rich.  Seated  opposite  her 
hostess,  in  a  deep  fauteuil,  she  rattled  on  over 
the  night's  events.  She  was  too  excited  to  think 
of  sleep.  Madame  Goldman  was  waiting  for  her 
son  to  come  in  and  kiss  her.  He  never  retired 
to  rest,  no  matter  how  late,  without  doing  so. 
She  sent  the  maid  to  bed,  and  took  off  her  jewels. 
As  she  put  them  into  the  satin -lined  trays  in  the 
large  casket,  Jette  leaned  over  and  touched  them 
with  delight. 

"You  don't  mind,"  she  said  timidly;  "nay,  I 
want  to  touch  them  just  to  see  if  their  fire  does 
not  burn  one.  How  magnificent  you  looked  in 
them  to-night!  No  queen  could  look  finer." 

"Marry  Julius,"  said  his  mother;  "he  will 
give  thee  even  finer  than  these." 

She  gave  a  little  gasp.  "I  would  marry  him 
to-morrow,"  she  said,  "if  only  he  were  you." 

"Thou  silly  one,"  said  Madame  Goldman,  "he 
is  far  better  as  he  is.  Me  thou  wouldst  not  find 
so  easy  to  deal  with.  Thou  canst  wind  him 
around  thy  finger  with  one  kind  word  or  look." 

Madame  Goldman  set  the  casket  on  a  hassock, 
and  standing  in  front  of  the  girl,  clasped  a  neck- 
lace around  her  throat.  She  took  out  Jette 's  mod- 
est earrings,  and  hung  drops  like  liquid  fire  in 
their  stead.  She  clasped  the  jewels  around  the 
girls'  arms,  drew  them  on  her  fingers,  and  fastened 
them  in  her  hair.  Tray  after  tray  Madame  Gold- 
man emptied  of  their  dazzling  contents.  A  girdle 


216  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

was  suspended  around  Jette's  waist,  the  withered 
flowers  were  taken  from  her  bosom  and  jewels 
placed  in  their  stead.  With  a  dexterous  move- 
ment Madame  Goldman  turned  the  girl  around  so 
that  she  faced  the  great  cheval  glass. 

"Look  at  thyself,"  Madame  Goldman  said. 

At  first  Jette  was  almost  too  dazzled  to  see. 
Then  her  breath  almost  forsook  her.  She  gazed 
and  gazed,  all  articulation  smothered  in  its  birth. 
Like  one  solid,  immense  blaze  of  light  she  ap- 
peared, too  dazzling  almost  for  eyes  to  look  upon. 
Could  one  look  like  that?  Was  it  really  in  one's 
power  to  be  so  beautiful  ?  The  gems  flashed  back 
from  every  part  of  her  body,  —  there  really  were 
women,  then,  fortunate  enough  to  possess  such 
things!  Her  breast  heaved,  her  eyes  sparkled. 
She  was  almost  suffocated  with  delight.  If  the 
people  at  home  could  see  her  thus,  —  nay,  did  it 
not  surpass  anything  she  had  ever  read  in  fairy 
tales? 

From  the  other  end  of  the  room  Madame  Gold- 
man dragged  another  casket.  It  was  much  larger 
than  the  first,  and  quite  heavy,  to  judge  with  how 
much  difficulty  she  lifted  it.  She  unlocked  it, 
and  flung  back  the  lid,  drew  forth  its  glittering 
contents,  and  flung  them  in  a  heap  on  the  rug. 
Such  treasures  —  it  surpassed  one's  wildest  dreams. 
In  an  ecstasy  of  delight  the  girl  threw  herself  down 
beside  them,  and  let  the  glittering  mass  run  from 
one  hand  into  the  other,  as  children  do  with  the 
shells  they  pick  up  on  the  seashore. 

"All  these  shall  be  thine,"  said  Madame  Gold- 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  217 

man,  "if  thou  wilt  but  consent  to  marry  Julius. 
Nay,  and  as  many  more  as  will  cover  thee  from 
head  to  foot." 

The  girl  laughed  delightedly.  She  babbled  as 
if  intoxicated.  Herr  Goldman  entered  the  room. 
He  stopped  short  as  one  dumfounded.  His  mo- 
ther beckoned  to  him,  and  took  his  hand. 

"She  consents,"  she  said,  in  her  rich,  musical 
voice.  "Liebchen,  let  me  bless  thee." 

Like  one  awakening  from  a  nightmare,  the  girl 
sprung  to  her  feet.  With  hasty,  feverish  fingers 
she  unclasped  the  gems  and  laid  them  back  in 
the  casket.  "They  are  very  precious,"  she  stam- 
mered, "but  I  —  I  do  not  want  them." 

The  banker  savagely  kicked  over  the  casket,  so 
that  its  contents  rolled  over  on  the  rug.  Then 
he  angrily  stumped  from  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

JETTE  enjoyed  herself  royally  during  the  Car- 
nival. For  the  time  being,  every  one  was  satis- 
fied to  wear  a  cap  and  bells,  and  give  himself  up 
to  the  hilarious  pleasure  of  being  a  fool.  In  the 
club  to  which  Herr  Goldman  belonged,  it  was 
decided  that  the  public  parade  that  year  should 
eclipse  all  previous  ones  in  originality  and  splen- 
dor. There  were  special  sittings  to  which  ladies 
were  admitted,  at  all  of  which  Jette  was  the 
happiest  fool  of  all.  Madame  Goldman  took  her 
everywhere.  In  the  girl's  superabundance  of 


218  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

youthful  spirits  and  happy  gayety  of  heart  she 
herself  became  a  girl  again.  They  went  to  hear 
the  incomparable  Lind,  at  that  time  in  the  zenith 
of  her  fame.  Jette's  admiration  and  enthusiasm 
were  so  great,  she  could  hardly  restrain  herself 
from  jumping  over  the  footlights,  and  falling  in 
mute  adoration  at  the  songstress'  feet.  They 
went  visiting,  and  received  visits.  With  all  her 
equipoise  of  mind,  she  could  not  but  feel  flattered 
at  the  distinction  with  which  everybody  treated 
her.  But  that  which  made  the  most  impression 
on  her  was  the  widespread  missions  of  charity  on 
which  she  accompanied  Madame  Goldman.  To 
have  it  in  one's  power  to  bring  relief  to  the  needy, 
clothe  the  naked,  cure  the  sick,  and  provide  homes 
for  the  helpless,  —  surely,  that  was  divine.  Like 
a  harbinger  of  good  tidings,  Madame  Goldman  was 
welcomed  everywhere.  With  a  benediction  she 
entered,  and  with  a  benediction  she  left.  And  it 
was  all  done  so  unostentatiously,  with  so  much 
tact.  Like  one  of  themselves  the  banker's  wife 
listened  to  their  complaints,  their  stories  of  ad- 
versity. Nothing  of  the  great  lady  there  was  to 
chill  their  sympathies  or  check  confidences.  The 
rich  woman  was  just  human,  nothing  more  or  less. 
Her  sound  common  sense  was  not  obstructed  by 
sentiment.  Did  a  case  present  itself  where  she 
could  not  suggest  a  remedy,  it  was  left  to  her 
husband  to  dispose  of  satisfactorily.  This  dark, 
short,  pudgy  woman,  with  her  strong  face  and  pol- 
ished manner,  was  the  tower  of  strength  against 
which  numberless  bruised  reeds  leaned  and  looked 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  219 

up  to  with  veneration  and  confidence.  And  all 
this  could  be  done  with  the  power  of  money.  Oh, 
no,  not  always,  either,  unless  one  had  the  spirit 
and  determination  to  use  it  as  a  sacred  trust,  as 
the  Lord  God  had  intended  it.  Money  could  just 
as  well  be  used  for  destructive  purposes,  —  one 
had  not  to  turn  to  books  to  know  that.  It  was 
the  every-day  history  of  the  world.  But  money 
used  in  the  right  way,  as  Madame  Goldman  used 
it,  —  what  a  power !  It  was  almost  like  being 
divine  one's  self.  And  she  herself  was  so  poor, 
—  she  possessed  nothing,  —  never  would  she  know 
the  bliss  of  relieving  the  wants  of  others,  saying, 
44  Here  thou !  Thou  hast  a  right  to  live  as  well 
as  I,  and  take  thy  rightful  share  of  the  earth's 
inheritance,  in  which  the  Lord  God  willed  all 
should  have  their  portion  according  to  their 
work."  Never,  unless —  She  shook  herself  and 
set  her  teeth  together.  Not  yet  could  she  accus- 
tom herself  to  the  idea  of  wedding  the  banker. 
There  was  time  yet  —  two  years.  The  Herr  Pas- 
tor had  said  she  should  not  marry  until  she  was 
quite  grown  up. 

And  so  she  put  off  the  inevitable  day,  and  went 
on  taking  the  goods  of  life  so  lavishly  provided 
for  her.  Madame  Goldman,  watching  her  curi- 
ously, knew  very  well  what  passed  in  her  mind. 
She  lived  this  new  life  of  ease  and  luxury  as  if 
she  had  never  known  any  other.  Would  she  be 
satisfied  to  return  to  her  customary  duties,  the 
stagnant  monotony  of  a  rural  life? 

"Passover  comes  late  this  year,"  said  Madame 


220  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

Goldman  one  evening,  as  they  sat  in  her  luxurious 
boudoir.  Jette's  embroidery  frame  rested  idly  in 
her  lap.  It  was  too  dark  to  work  and  too  early 
for  the  lamps  to  be  lit ;  just  the  hour  for  tender 
reverie  or  mutual  confidences.  The  fire  in  the 
porcelain  stove  glowed  like  the  eye  of  a  cyclops. 
The  paintings  on  the  walls,  the  swelling  uphol- 
stery of  richest  satin,  the  numerous  trifles  of  or- 
nament and  bricabrac,  valuable  additions  to  a 
connoisseur's  collection,  looked  doubly  rich  and 
fanciful  in  the  half  light.  The  girl  settled  back 
in  the  luxurious  armchair,  and  clasped  her  hands 
above  her  head. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "the  blossoms  will  already 
gather  on  the  old  cherry-tree  at  home,  and  the 
lilacs  commence  to  bud  in  my  garden.  They  will 
both  have  to  be  pruned  this  year." 

"  I  wish  thou  couldst  prolong  thy  visit  and  spend 
the  holidays  in  our  midst,"  said  the  elder  lady. 

"Oh,  no,  I  could  not,"  said  Jette,  in  genuine 
trepidation.  "Easter  comes  about  the  same  time. 
There  is  so  much  to  do  then  at  home.  The  whole 
house  is  turned  upside  down,  from  attic  to  cellar. 
Everything  is  made  sweet  and  fresh  for  another 
year.  Babbett  could  never  do  it  alone.  Indeed, 
I  must  be  there  to  help  her." 

"How  canst  thou  think  of  returning  to  such 
drudgery  after  the  life  thou  hast  led  here?"  ex- 
claimed Madame  Goldman. 

Jette  opened  her  eyes  very  wide.  "We  all 
have  to  work,"  she  said.  "The  Herr  Pastor  says 
work  is  the  salt  of  life." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  221 

"Occupation,  yes,"  said  Madame  Goldman; 
"  but  drudgery  of  the  coarsest  kind,  —  such  as  the 
poorest  charwoman  can  do  far  more  creditably 
than  thou  for  a  few  groschen  a  day,  —  they  surely 
could  hire  some  one  in  thy  stead." 

"'T  is  not  to  be  thought  of,"  said  Jette  quickly. 
"I  know  how  to  arrange  all  the  things,  and  to 
put  them  back  in  their  right  place.  No  stranger 
could  do  that.  Besides,  the  Herr  Doctor's  educa- 
tion cost  a  great  deal.  To  be  sure,  it  was  paid 
out  of  the  interest  which  had  accumulated  from 
the  Frau  Pastorin's  dowry.  But  it  is  all  gone 
now,  and  the  principal  must  not  be  touched. 
Part  of  it  will  have  to  be  used  to  start  the  Herr 
Doctor  in  his  practice  when  he  returns.  Though 
at  the  rate  he  is  making  progress,  I  do  not  think 
he  will  need  it." 

"What  manner  of  a  man  is  thy  doctor?"  asked 
Madame  Goldman. 

"My  doctor?"  echoed  Jette,  with  emphasis. 
She  pouted  her  lips  scornfully.  "He  is  no  doctor 
of  mine.  He  is  proud  and  bumptious,  and  thinks 
a  great  deal  of  himself.  All  the  same,  he  is  very 
clever." 

"Is  he  most  like  his  father,  or  mother?"  asked 
Madame  Goldman. 

"H'm!  Very  much  like  both,  I  should  think. 
I  have  seen  so  very  little  of  him,  I  am  hardly  able 
to  judge.  He  is  very  tall  and  strong,  and  blonde 
like  his  mother,  but  he  has  his  father's  dark  eyes, 
and  the  same  way  of  making  one  obey.  Only 
he  is  a  good  deal  more  masterful  than  the  Herr 


222  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

Pastor.  He  is  even  more  distant  in  his  manner 
than  the  Frau  Pas  tor  in.  Although  I  have  seen 
him  quite  cordial  at  times." 

"I  think  I  know  thy  doctor  very  well,"  said 
Madame  Goldman  reflectively ;  "  tall,  deep-chested, 
blonde-haired,  fair-skinned,  dark-eyed,  with  a 
proper  pride  in  his  manhood,  and  some  profes- 
sional hauteur.  H'm!  Quite  the  hero  of  ro- 
mance for  foolish  girls  to  fall  in  love  with." 

"Fraulein  von  Hermersdorff  is  not  foolish," 
said  Jette,  "and  she  is  in  love  with  him.  He 
was  always  very  gracious  to  her.  They  will  marry 
as  soon  as  the  doctor  has  established  himself. 
'T  is  all  settled,  I  assure  you.  The  Frau  Pastorin 
speaks  of  it  constantly." 

"They  are  betrothed,  then?"  asked  Madame 
Goldman. 

"In  the  letter  I  had  from  home  yesterday," 
said  Jette,  "the  Frau  Pastorin  mentions  she 
thinks  they  will  be  very  soon.  Fraulein  von 
Hermersdorff  is  now  in  Vienna  with  the  Herr 
Professor,  her  father.  She,  too,  wrote  to  the 
Frau  Pastorin.  They  are  all  so  proud  of  the 
wonderful  cures  the  Herr  Doctor  has  performed. 
He  saved  an  Austrian  archduchess  from  blindness 
after  she  had  been  given  up  by  the  cleverest  doc- 
tors. That  was  truly  great,  was  it  not?" 

"He  must  be  making  a  great  name  for  him- 
self," said  Madame  Goldman. 

"Apparently  he  is.  I  am  so  glad  for  the  Herr 
Pastor  and  the  Frau  Pastorin.  They  are  so 
happy,  so  proud.  He  will  be  a  famous  man  yet. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  223 

Truly,  it  is  a  great  thing  to  have  one's  children 
turn  out  well." 

Madame  Goldman  laughed  outright.  .  "What 
dost  thou  know  about  it?  "  she  said. 

"Now,"  said  Jette,  with  a  blush,  "I  was  only 
quoting  what  the  Frau  Pastorin  said  in  her  letter." 

The  junior  banker  entered  the  room.  Of  late 
he  had  been  in  a  carping  and  morose  humor, 
which  intensified,  if  possible,  the  aversion  Jette 
felt  towards  him.  He  spoilt  her  gayety  of  spirits, 
and  saddened  and  depressed  her.  He  made  her 
feel  vaguely  as  if  she  had  done  him  some  grievous 
wrong,  for  which  she  could  never  sufficiently 
atone.  All  that  was  worst  in  her  nature  he 
seemed  to  have  the  capacity  to  draw  forth.  She 
fairly  bristled  with  antagonism  and  stubborn  op- 
position whenever  he  looked  at  her.  He  was  the 
blot  on  her  fair  horizon,  the  bitter  pill  among  the 
sweets  of  her  existence.  Herr  Goldman  had  not 
been  very  amiable  of  late.  All  his  life  he  had  got 
what  he  asked  for.  Where  there  was  resistance 
he  had  known  how  to  overcome  it.  Now  for  the 
first  time  since  he  was  born  there  was  something 
he  could  not  get.  Jette 's  stubborn  coyness  made 
him  mad.  The  more  she  tried  to  avoid  him,  the 
more  ardently  he  pursued  her.  He  could  not 
understand  it  at  all.  His  mood  became  intoler- 
able. He  was  jealous  of  the  dog  she  caressed, 
the  canary  she  chirped  t9,  the  tippet  around  her 
throat,  the  glove  on  her  hand.  He  would  have 
been  satisfied  with  very  little  at  first,  but  that 
little  she  did  not  seem  inclined  to  give.  He  was 


224  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

restless  and  irritable  away  from  her,  and  yet  most 
miserable  when  near  her. 

This  evening  he  appeared  to  be  in  a  more  cheer- 
ful mood.  "Sitting  in  the  dark  and  romancing?" 
he  said  gayly. 

"Ring  for  lights,"  said  his  mother. 

"Not  for  worlds,  mamma.  This  suits  me  very 
well.  Did  I  interrupt  any  sweet  confidences?" 
He  hoped,  under  cover  of  the  darkness,  to  take 
Jette's  hand.  Perhaps  she  would  let  him.  Surely 
the  hour  had  softened  her  mood. 

"We  were  talking,"  said  Madame  Goldman, 
"of  doctors.  The  romance  belongs  elsewhere,  not 
here." 

"Phew,"  he  said,  "I  smell  the  cadavers  al- 
ready." 

"'Tis  the  noblest  profession  in  the  world,"  said 
Jette. 

"Supplemented  by  right  noble  bills,"  he  said. 

"Doctors  can't  live  by  pride  of  profession 
alone,"  she  said,  "no  more  than  can  other  people. 
The  art  of  healing  seems  to  me  divine.  To  re- 
store the  child  to  the  stricken  mother,  to  save 
the  breadwinner  to  his  helpless  family,  to  bring 
relief  to  the  pain-racked  limbs,  and  hope  to  the 
despairing  heart,  —  it  is  a  noble  mission  which 
makes  a  man  seem  twice  so.  It  is  just  the  life- 
work  I  would  havtf  chosen,  were  it  customary  for 
my  sex  to  do  so." 

"Your  lifeworkj"  he  said,  "is  to  break  hearts, 
not  to  mend  them." 

"Let  me  assure  you,"  she  said,  with  assumed 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  225 

seriousness,  "that  the  art  of  mending  is  a  very 
laborious  and  intricate  one.  Unless  one  can 
do  it  creditably,  one  had  better  let  it  alone. 
One  would  not  bungle  even  at  mending."  She 
gravely  surveyed  her  left  forefinger,  on  whose 
delicate  tip  the  mark  of  the  needle  could  plainly 
be  seen. 

"Thou  speakest,"  said  Madame  Goldman,  "as 
if  thou  hadst  a  good  knowledge  of  thy  sub- 
ject." 

"I  have  served  my  apprenticeship,"  said  Jette 
ruefully. 

"  How  nice !  "  said  Madame  Goldman  mali- 
ciously; "I  will  bring  out  all  my  fine  mending 
while  thou  art  here." 

"No,  no,"  said  Jette  gayly;  "I  get  all  the 
plain  fare  I  want  at  home.  When  I  go  visiting, 
I  want  a  more  delicate  diet." 

She  had  risen,  for  she  had  felt  Herr  Goldman 
come  dangerously  near.  In  the  darkness,  with 
the  glowing  firelight  to  enhance  the  deep  shadows, 
she  looked  very  slim  and  tall  against  the  pudgy 
Madame  Goldman  standing  beside  her. 

"  So  thou  comest  to  me  for  thy  sweetmeats  ? " 
said  the  elder  woman  softly.  Gently,  with  a 
mother's  touch,  she  caressed  the  shapely  hand 
lying  passively  within  her  own.  "Thou  shalt 
have  them,"  she  said,  —  "enough  to  surfeit  thee. 
Only  thou  must  show  thyself  somewhat  sensible 
and  a  little  yielding.  How  can  such  a  beautiful 
creature  as  thou  be  so  hard-hearted?  " 

"I  —  I  do  not  mean  to  be,"  stammered  the  girl. 


226  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"All  the  same,  thou  art,"  said  Madame  Gold- 
man. "Look  at  Esther  Baruch.  She  is  as  happy 
as  the  day  is  long,  and  has  seen  her  betrothed 
only  twice.  It  is  the  way  with  our  maidens. 
Their  parents  choose,  and  they  are  satisfied.  In 
that  they  show  their  wisdom,  for  they  insure  their 
children's  future  as  far  as  lies  within  their  power. 
Thou  must  not  keep  Julius  dangling  in  uncer- 
tainty any  longer.  It  is  neither  fair  to  thee  nor 
to  him.  Before  thou  leavest  here,  thou  must  reach 
some  definite  decision.  Wilt  thou  promise  to 
do  so?" 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  the  girl  hurriedly.  She  closed 
her  eyes  with  a  shudder,  as  she  felt  a  pair  of  hot 
lips  press  her  hand.  Then  she  escaped  to  her 
room. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

"THE  beautiful  days  of  Aranjuez  are  at  an 
end,"  declaimed  Jette  wistfully,  just  as  on  a 
former  occasion  Herr  von  Czechy  had  done.  She 
was  standing  at  the  window  of  the  great  drawing- 
room,  waiting  for  her  hostess,  with  whom  she  was 
to  go  shopping.  A  few  days  more,  and  this  life 
of  luxury,  of  ease,  and  of  splendor  would  come 
to  an  end.  There  would  be  a  busy  time  at  the 
parsonage  on  her  return ;  the  annual  invasion  of 
the  broom  and  scrubbing-brush  was  at  hand. 
For  two  weeks  chaos  would  reign.  Everything 
movable  the  house  contained  would  be  dragged, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  227 

flung,  or  bundled  out  of  doors.  The  most  hidden 
recess,  nook,  or  cranny  would  be  mercilessly  ex- 
posed to  the  light.  Beginning  in  the  attic  and 
ending  in  the  cellar,  the  invading  forces  would 
continue  their  victorious  march,  before  which  spi- 
ders or  anything  of  the  like  ilk  would  fly  in  dis- 
may, or  get  ruthlesslv  exterminated.  During 
this  period  of  upheaval  it  would  be  hard  to  find 
two  more  disconsolate  creatures  than  the  good 
pastor  and  Minka.  They  faithfully  kept  each 
other  company,  and  shared  their  misery  as  they 
did  their  scant  rations.  The  pastor,  with  his 
chess-table  in  one  hand  and  his  box  of  chess-men 
in  the  other,  would  wander  from  one  dismantled^ 
room  to  another  in  search  of  some  place  of  refuge, 
followed  by  Minka,  with  depressed  tail  and  droop- 
ing whiskers.  Each  night  the  pastor  lay  down, 
he  thought  joyfully,  "Thank  God  there  is  one 
more  day  off  the  calendar,"  until  law  and  order 
was  restored  again,  and  probably  Minka  did  the 
same.  Certain  it  is,  when  all  the  uproar  was 
done,  and  the  house  looked  like  itself  again,  glis- 
tening in  its  new  dress  of  cleanliness  and  purity, 
Minka  stepped  from  room  to  room,  her  bushy 
gray  tail  once  more  stiff  and  erect,  her  big  yellow 
eyes  gleaming  like  topaz,  rubbing  herself  against 
every  member  of  the  household  alternately,  while 
she  purred  with  delight.  "Dear  Minka,  she 
knows  everything  that  is  going  on,"  thought  the 
girl,  and  a  little  touch  of  homesickness  crept  into 
her  heart.  She  thought  of  her  poultry  yard,  the 
canaries  in  the  Frau  Pastorin's  south  window, 


228  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

who  pecked  their  sweets  from  her  lips,  her  pet 
pigeons,  her  garden,  where  she  must  soon  begin 
to  hoe  and  dig  and  sow.  It  was  all  very  grand 
and  beautiful  here,  but  —  the  other  was  home. 

Madame  Goldman  was  heard  coming  down  the 
stairs  in  her  rustling  silks  and  rich  sables.  Jette 
went  into  the  wide  vestibule  to  meet  her. 

"Thou  lookest  thoughtful,  liebe  Kleine,"  said 
the  elder  woman,  as  they  entered  the  carriage  and 
drove  away. 

"The  beautiful  days  of  Aranjuez  are  at  an 
end,"  repeated  Jette,  smiling. 

"Surely,  't  is  thy  own  fault,"  said  Madame 
Goldman.  "Why  should  they  ever  end  at  all? 
'Tis  only  for  thyself  to  decide." 

"Yes,"  said  the  girl  dreamily.  She  absently 
played  with  the  heavy  silk  tassels  of  Madame 
Goldman's  muff.  "If  only  he  were  you  and  you 
were  he,"  she  burst  out  vehemently. 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that  at  all,"  said  Madame 
Goldman,  who  knew  very  well  what  she  meant; 
"thou  mightst  not  find  me  near  so  well  to  get 
on  with.  He  is  far  too  complaisant,  with  no 
head  at  all  on  his  shoulders,  where  thou  art  con- 
cerned. That  is  what  I  always  tell  Julius.  He 
is  over-indulgent ;  he  spoils  thee  utterly.  Suppose 
thou  wearest  out  his  patience,  and  he  marries 
some  one  else?  " 

"Would  to  heaven  he  would!"  she  aspirated 
fervently. 
' " Heyday !     What  is  that?  " 

"Then  you  would  not  withdraw  from  me  your 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  229 

friendship.  I  love  you;  I  love  you,"  she  said,  in 
tones  of  honeyed  endearment,  fondling  and  kissing 
Madame  Goldman's  hand. 

"  Why  cannot  I  be  angry  with  thee,  thou  tyrant 
and  dove  both?"  said  Madame  Goldman,  in  trem- 
bling accents.  She  flung  back  her  sable  cloak 
and  put  her  arm  around  the  girl's  neck.  "Stay 
with  me,"  she  urged;  "be  my  daughter  indeed, 
as  thou  hast  twined  thyself  around  my  heart. 
Never  queen  was  more  adored  than  thou  wilt  be 
in  the  midst  of  us.  Make  him  —  make  us  all 
happy." 

In  that  moment  Jette's  fate  hung  trembling  in 
the  balance.  Against  the  pleadings  of  the  man 
she  detested  she  could  hold  her  own,  but  not 
against  those  of  the  mother  whom  she  sincerely 
loved.  Now  her  heart  was  touched.  Deeply 
moved,  she  was  about  to  answer,  when  suddenly 
the  carriage  came  to  an  abrupt  stop.  Somebody 
grasped  the  reins  and  forced  the  horses  back,  who 
reared  and  plunged  madly.  Jette  let  down  the 
window  nearest  her  to  see  what  was  going  on. 

They  had  come  upon  a  band  of  penitents,  who 
were  wending  their  way  to  the  cathedral.  Monks 
barefooted,  with  shorn  heads,  were  swinging  cen- 
sors, and  holding  the  host  aloft.  It  was  near  the 
noon  hour,  in  the  busiest  part  of  the  town,  but 
everybody  had  stopped  and  doffed  their  caps  to  let 
the  pilgrims  go  by.  There  was  plenty  of  time 
for  the  carriage  to  pass  down  the  side  street  as 
Ephraim,  the  coachman,  had  intended,  but  the 
crowd,  ill-natured  as  they  always  were  at  that 


230  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

time  of  year  towards  the  Jews,  surlily  refused  to 
make  way  for  him. 

"Back,  thou  accursed  Jew,"  said  a  big,  brawny, 
hulking  driver  of  a  brewer's  dray.  It  was  he 
who  had  caught  hold  of  the  horses'  reins.  The 
spirited  animals  became  almost  maddened  as  the 
hubbub  of  the  priests'  chant  and  the  cloud  of 
incense  from  the  swinging  censers  increased. 

"Art  of  the  breed,  too?"  he  said,  giving  the 
off  horse  a  vicious  kick.  "Chokest  at  the  blessed 
fumes  of  the  holy  incense,  eh?  " 

"Let  me  go,"  panted  Ephraim;  "otherwise 
something  terrible  will  happen." 

"Ay,  indeed.  The  currying  of  thy  ill-smell- 
ing Jewish  hide  and  those  that  are  with  thee. 
Accursed  hound,  thou !  Stay  where  thou  art  until 
the  holy  procession  has  passed." 

The  coachman  was  from  the  borders  of  Poland, 
where  outrages  and  persecutions  against  those  of 
his  faith  were  frequent  pretenses  for  popular  mal- 
ice and  greed  of  plunder.  He  was  dark,  almost 
like  an  Ethiopian,  but  Jette  saw  him  turn  pale  to 
the  lips.  The  populace  were  cursing  and  jeering 
at  the  plunging  horses,  who  were  madly  tugging 
at  the  reins. 

"  Call  upon  thy  God  to  check  them,  since  thou 
canst  not  do  it,  accursed  son  of  Abraham,  thou !  " 
jeered  a  wrinkled  old  crone. 

Jette  looked  at  Madame  Goldman.  She  was 
very  pale,  and  sat  quite  rigid.  A  shudder  con- 
vulsed her  limbs  when  any  of  the  vile  epithets 
struck  her  ear.  The  girl  flung  off  her  mantle, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  231 

and  opening  the  carriage  door,  sprung  lightly 
to  the  ground.  So  much  of  majesty  and  nobil- 
ity there  was  in  her  youthful  mien  that  no  one 
thought  of  uttering  a  protest  when  she  walked 
to  the  horses'  heads.  Her  slim,  white  hands 
touched  the  brawny  fist  of  the  drayman  as  with 
the  sweetest,  most  gracious  "Allow  me,"  she  took 
hold  of  the  reins,  causing  him  to  drop  his  hand 
and  shamefacedly  step  aside.  "Keep  a  firm  hold," 
he  said  to  Ephraim.  Her  look,  piercing  and  com- 
manding, said,  "Keep  a  cool  head,"  and  he  under- 
stood her.  Patting  the  horses'  sides,  speaking 
soothing  words  as  she  had  heard  Hans  of  the 
Wildhof  do,  she  made  a  way  for  the  carriage  to 
proceed,  walking  on  in  front,  with  an  uplifting 
of  her  bonny  blue  eyes,  a  charming  smile,  and  a 
sweetly  gracious,  "Bitte,  bitte;  "  and  the  populace 
quickly  parted  either  side,  holding  their  breath 
lest  the  restive  horses'  hoofs  should  strike  her. 
It  was  high  time,  for  just  as  they  reached  the 
opposite  curb,  the  procession  was  upon  them. 

"Drive  slowly  at  first,"  she  uttered  hurriedly 
to  Ephraim,  "then  make  what  speed  you  can  to 
the  bank.  I  shall  be  there  almost  as  soon  as  you 
are." 

With  a  heartfelt  sigh  of  relief  she  saw  the 
carriage  disappear  in  the  distance.  She  stopped 
when  the  host  was  carried  by  and  the  people 
prostrated  themselves.  Then  she  walked  slowly 
on  till  she  reached  a  side  street.  Once  out  of 
sight,  she  quickened  her  steps,  and  soon  reached 
the  bank,  which  fortunately  was  not  far  off.  She 


232  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

almost  danced  into  the  office  of  the  senior  partner, 
so  glad  was  she  to  see  the  carriage  standing  at 
the  door.  Ephraim  took  off  his  hat  and  bowed 
most  profoundly.  All  the  radiance  of  Queen  Es- 
ther was  nothing  compared  to  that  with  which 
she  shone  in  his  eyes. 

"What  a  beautiful  day,"  she  said,  as  she  en- 
tered. "I  have  quite  enjoyed  my  walk." 

There  had  been  some  anxiety  on  her  account. 
Madame  Goldman  sat  in  the  big  office  chair. 
There  were  traces  of  tears  on  her  cheeks.  Her 
husband  and  son  were  with  her.  Jette  was  greeted 
with  tender  effusion. 

"They  did  not  attempt  to  do  anything  to  thee?  " 
asked  Madame  Goldman  anxiously. 

"To  me?  Indeed,  no.  They  stared  and  made 
way,  but  uttered  no  word.  I  made  all  the  haste 
I  could  to  get  here.  Have  I  been  long?  " 

"Thou  art  a  famous  girl,"  said  the  elder  Gold- 
man. He  kissed  her  heartily,  and  left  a  great 
deal  of  snuff  on  her  fichu.  In  his  heart  he  vowed 
to  give  a  goodly  sum  in  her  name  to  the  poor  of 
the  synagogue  next  Sabbath's  worship.  Goldman 
junior,  his  sound  foot  on  the  rung  of  a  chair, 
beamed  all  over  with  pride  and  joy.  His  looks 
said  as  plain  as  anything,  "  What  did  I  tell  you  ? 
She  is  quite  a  heroine." 

Madame  Goldman  pulled  the  girl  down  beside 
her. 

"Wert  thou  not  a  little  afraid?"  she  asked. 

"I  had  you  to  think  of,"  said  the  girl  naively; 
"alone,  I  might  have  been." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  233 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

A  FEW  days  after,  Jette  went  home.  There  was 
sorrow  in  the  household  of  the  Goldmans.  Her 
youthful,  high  spirits  and  simple  graciousness  had 
endeared  her  to  all.  The  lowest  scullion  in  the 
kitchen  would  miss  her.  She  had  often  gone 
down  to  watch  the  cook  prepare  some  delicious 
dainty  which  had  appeared  at  table,  and  which 
she  thought  they  would  like  at  home.  "When  I 
see  a  thing  done,"  she  said,  "I  can  easily  do  it. 
It  is  of  no  use  to  tell  me.  I  can  never  get  it  right 
from  that."  Madame  Goldman  missed  her  terri- 
bly. She  would  gladly  have  given  a  considerable 
portion  of  her  wealth  sooner  than  part  with  her. 
The  house  seemed  dead  after  she  was  gone.  The 
good  lady  looked  forward  with  impatience  to  the 
time  when  this  bright,  lovely,  joyous  creature 
should  be  her  daughter  indeed,  as  she  already  was 
in  her  affections.  Before  she  went,  Herr  Goldman 
had  extracted  a  promise  from  her  to  marry  him  at 
the  end  of  two  years,  when  she  would  be  nineteen. 
She  had  been  sorely  beset,  and  felt  that  against 
so  many  forces  combined  that  were  brought  to 
bear  upon  her  she  was  not  strong  enough  to  hold 
her  own.  She  saw  there  was  no  escape  from  his 
detested  presence  in  any  other  way.  Alone  with 
this  persistent,  ardent  suitor  in  Madame  Gold- 
man's boudoir,  trembling  with  fright  and  appre- 
hension lest  he  should  presume  upon  a  caress,  she 
gave  a  desperate  assent,  subject,  of  course,  to 


234  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

the  Herr  Pastor's  approval.  But  she  would  not 
allow  him  to  put  the  betrothal  ring  upon  her 
finger.  Spite  of  his  importunities  and  entreaties, 
she  remained  steadfast  in  that.  Not  until  the 
last  inevitable  moment  would  she  allow  a  visible 
sign  of  the  fetters  her  cowardice  was  weaving 
around  her.  During  the  two  years  which  must 
elapse  before  the  formal  betrothal,  everything  was 
to  remain  as  at  present.  Only,  necessarily,  she 
would  feel  herself  bound  to  him.  Besides,  there 
was  not  much  use  in  making  promises.  The  Herr 
Pastor  had  stipulated  that  her  consent  should  not 
be  considered  until  she  was  of  a  fit  age  to  marry. 
This  was  her  grand  refuge.  Behind  this  she 
intrenched  herself.  It  was  a  shallow  subterfuge, 
and  she  hated  herself  for  using  it.  And  the 
banker,  knowing  perfectly  well  how  useless  it  was 
appealing  against  the  Herr  Pastor's  decision, 
ground  his  teeth  in  impotent  fury.  However,  he 
had  to  be  satisfied.  What  could  one  do  with  a  girl 
upon  whom  all  the  practical  advantages  of  luxury 
and  wealth  made  no  impression,  —  who  could  not 
be  won  by  the  gewgaws  which  win  the  hearts  of 
most  women;  perfectly  satisfied,  nay,  happy,  to 
return  to  a  life  of  rustic,  humdrum  obscurity;  to 
trudge  on  foot  when  she  could  ride  in  a  carriage ; 
to  perform  menial  household  duties  when  footmen 
might  be  at  her  command?  But  patience.  It 
was  the  unsophisticatedness  of  youth.  Two  years 
would  do  much  to  mould  her  character  and  to 
ripen  her  judgment.  So,  though  what  she  granted 
him  was  very  little,  with  that  little  he  had  to  be 
content. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  235 

If  she  had  only  had  a  mother,  some  one  of  her 
own  sex,  having  her  interest  at  heart,  wise  and 
experienced  in  the  world's  ways!  If  she  only  had 
some  one  to  confide  in !  That  was  the  burden  and 
cry  of  her  heart.  The  Frau  Pastor  in,  with  all 
her  kindness,  was  not  sympathetic.  The  proud, 
wealthy,  old  Pomeranian  peasant  stock  she  came 
of  looked  with  disfavor  upon  any  ebullition  of 
sentiment.  What  was  right  was  right,  what  was 
wrong  was  wrong.  It  was  given  to  man's  own 
good  judgment  to  choose  which  way  to  go.  If  he 
went  the  wrong  way,  all  the  worse  for  him.  One 
was  as  easy  as  the  other.  With  all  the  impulses 
of  her  own  heart  Jette  had  been  alone.  Sympa- 
thy she  had  never  demanded,  because  there  was 
no  one  to  give  it  to  her.  All  her  little  joys  and 
all  her  little  sorrows  she  had  hugged  to  herself. 
She  was  fond  of  the  Frau  Pastorin,  but  she  was 
afraid  of  her;  the  Herr  Pastor  she  loved  and 
revered,  but  she  stood  in  awe  of  him.  There  was 
always  that  formal,  distant  little  boundary  line 
she  was  too  diffident  to  cross.  Hans  von  Czechy 
was  the  only  one  she  had  come  into  contact  with 
in  whose  presence  she  felt  her  heart  expand. 
Him  she  could  have  told  everything.  That  was 
the  bond  which  drew  her  to  him,  which  made  his 
memory  sacred  to  her.  True,  there  was  Madame 
Goldman.  Gladly  would  she  have  gone  to  her 
and  poured  out  her  whole  heart.  But  could  she 
tell  the  mother  of  the  loathing  with  which  the  son 
inspired  her,  —  could  she  tell  her  that  his  person- 
ality was  hateful  to  the  girl  she  hoped  to  see  that 


236  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

son's  wife?  Could  she  wring  the  mother's  heart 
in  its  most  susceptible  spot,  —  the  love  for  the  son 
whom  she  adored?  Sooner  would  she  rend  her 
own  heart  and  keep  silence. 

Who  would  understand  her?  No  one.  The 
world  envied  and  flattered  her.  The  Herr  Pastor 
only  waited  till  she  was  old  enough  to  give  his 
consent.  Since  she  had  in  a  measure  identified 
herself  with  her  suitor's  family,  her  own  was 
tacitly  looked  upon.  The  Frau  Pastor  in  regarded 
everything  as  settled.  Babbett  called  her  a  fool, 
whom  fate  had  to  bang  on  the  head  in  order  to 
make  her  realize  her  extraordinary  good  luck. 
Besides,  was  it  not  her  duty  to  marry?  Already 
she  was  a  great  expense  to  the  family.  It  had 
cost  quite  a  little  sum  to  fit  her  out  suitably  for 
her  visit.  She  was  so  tall,  it  took  a  good  many 
ells  to  make  her  a  dress.  Did  not  all  girls  marry  ? 
Was  it  not  the  whole  aim  of  their  existence? 
What  else  could  she  do?  Become  an  old  maid? 
Brrr!  Horrible!  to  be  laughed  at,  made  a  jest 
of,  to  fill  the  stray  nooks  and  empty  niches  of 
creation,  —  it  was  anything  but  an  enviable  pro- 
spect. It  was  imperative  upon  her  to  marry.  She 
had  to  have  a  place  in  the  world,  —  things  would 
not  go  on  like  this  forever. 

So  she  took  refuge  in  the  grace  yet  allowed  her. 
Herr  Goldman  came  as  often  as  the  Herr  Pastor 
thought  permissible,  each  time  more  ardent  and 
hopeful  than  the  last.  And  she  —  The  old  horror 
grew  upon  her.  It  was  no  use,  —  she  could  not 
shake  it  off.  Keason,  argument,  judgment,  all 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  237 

were  powerless  against  it.  What  would  become 
of  all  this?  She  shuddered,  but  dared  not  think. 
So  the  time  drew  dangerously  near. 

It  was  towards  the  close  of  an  oppressive  day 
in  July.  In  the  orchard  the  half -ripe  fruit  hung 
parched  and  drooping  on  the  boughs.  The  air 
was  ominously  still  with  the  portend  of  disaster. 
Not  a  leaf  stirred.  The  clouds  hung  heavy  and 
sullen,  like  molten  lead.  From  the  pastures  came 
the  low  bellowing  of  the  kine.  The  hills,  gray 
and  indistinguishable  in  the  gathering  vapor, 
loomed  weird  and  menacing  in  the  distance. 
There  was  that  vague  uneasiness  in  the  air  with 
which  all  great  forces  of  nature  infect  the  spirit. 
Jette  took  off  her  large  straw  hat,  and  scrutiniz- 
ingly  looked  around. 

"Thou  and  I  must  run,  Minka,"  she  said  to 
the  big  tabby.  "The  storm  is  gathering,  and 
presently  will  be  upon  us  in  unfettered  fury." 

She  drew  off  the  large,  loose  gloves  she  always 
wore  since  Hans  von  Czechy  had  chided  her  for 
not  taking  proper  pride  in  her  hands,  took  off 
her  apron,  and  turned  homeward.  Between  inter- 
vals of  reading  she  had  worked  a  little  at  the 
vegetable  beds.  It  was  too  hot  to  do  anything 
continuously.  Minka  had  gone  with  her,  as  she 
invariably  did  of  late.  Since  Jette's  return  from 
her  visit  to  the  Goldmans,  two  years  ago,  the  cat 
had  attached  herself  almost  solely  to  her  young 
mistress.  She  followed  her  about  everywhere. 

The  Frau  Pastorin  was  standing  at  the  window 
when  Jette  turned  in  at  the  parsonage  gate.  The 


238  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

color  in  her  cheeks  was  heightened,  her  eyes  looked 
expectant  and  bright. 

"I  am  glad  thou  hast  come,"  she  said  to  the 
girl;  "the  storm  may  descend  at  any  moment. 
Dost  thou  not  feel  very  warm?  What  fearful 
heat!  I  feel  as  if  my  palate  were  withered." 

"I  will  go  and  make  you  some  lemonade,"  said 
Jette. 

"Wait  till  papa  comes.  I  have  been  anxiously 
looking  for  him.  I  have  had  a  letter." 

"  So  ?  "  said  Jette,  with  interest.  She  knew  there 
was  but  one  person  in  the  world  whose  letter  could 
excite  her  so.  "What  does  the  Herr  Doctor  say? 
He  is  well,  I  hope?" 

"'Tis  not  right  I  should  tell  thee,"  said  the 
Frau  Pastorin,  "before  papa  hears  it.  I  had 
hoped  thou  wouldst  meet  him  and  bring  him  with 
thee.  Only  think!  Fritz  is  coming  home." 

Jette  laughed.  "Dear  Frau  Pastorin,  what 
good  news!  Will  you  not  be  glad  to  embrace 
him  again  ?  After  three  long  years  of  absence  — 
why,  you  will  hardly  know  him." 

The  Frau  Pastorin 's  eyes  glistened.  "His 
papa  —  he  will  be  delighted.  I  can  hardly  wait 
till  he  comes  in.  He  has  missed  him  fully  as 
much  as  I  have.  To  be  sure,  Fritz  had  to  go. 
He  had  to  gain  a  name  and  experience.  Now  he 
has  both.  Now  he  can  establish  himself." 

"Was  not  the  Herr  Doctor  to  stay  away  an- 
other year  ?  " 

"So  we  thought.  But  that  little  trouble  with 
the  government,  — •  when  he  joined  the  rebel  stu- 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  239 

dents  with  the  young  Baron  von  Czechy,  —  thou 
knowest  is  settled  long  ago.  Not  once  has  he 
granted  himself  a  holiday  since  he  went  to  Vienna. 
He  has  studied  and  worked  as  young  men  seldom 
do.  To  be  sure,  he  had  a  most  powerful  incen- 
tive." 

She  passed  her  plump  hands  over  her  shining 
bands  of  hair.  Here  and  there  a  gray  thread  had 
crept  in.  Anxiety  for  her  son  had  brought  them, 
not  the  smooth,  eventless  years. 

"He  has  made  a  name  for  himself,"  she  said, 
"  such  as  many  an  older  head  might  be  proud  of. 
He  has  both  fame  and  substance  now.  They  will 
offer  him  a  professorship  at  Bonn.  He  will  marry 
Thekla.  Ah !  I  shall  see  all  my  fondest  dreams 
realized." 

"  How  I  rejoice !  "  said  Jette. 

"'Tis  fortunate  he  comes  now,"  said  the  Frau 
Pastorin;  "he  can  have  a  thorough  rest  before 
all  the  bustle  and  preparation  for  thy  wedding. 
His  eyes  are  inflamed,  he  writes,  from  overwork 
and  study.  He  must  have  complete  quiet  and 
rest.  Dear  boy !  dearest  child !  where  else  should 
he  go  but  to  his  mother  to  get  completely  nursed 
back  to  health?" 

"Certainly,"  said  Jette.  She  spoke  with  an 
effort.  The  allusion  to  the  ultimate  settling  of 
her  fate  made  her  flesh  creep.  "Here  comes  the 
Herr  Pastor,"  she  said.  The  Frau  Pastorin  flew 
to  meet  him. 


240  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

THAT  night  the  storm  fiend  went  abroad,  and 
right  merrily  did  he  ride  his  steed.  It  was  so 
suffocatingly  hot  no  one  could  sleep.  Trees  were 
uprooted,  toppling  over  with  a  deafening  crash. 
The  wrathful  thunder  shook  the  houses  to  their 
very  foundations.  Great  gusts  of  rain  beat  fiercely 
against  the  casements.  Jette  sat  at  the  window, 
veiling  her  eyes  from  the  blinding  lightning. 
She  felt  a  fierce  exultation  in  the  storm.  She 
wanted  to  run  out,  to  let  herself  be  tossed  in  its 
savage  embrace.  She  wanted  to  mingle  her 
shrieks  with  the  roars  of  the  storm  king.  The 
b^od  raced  madly  in  her  veins.  She  thought  of 
the  ride  of  the  Valkyrie,  and  fancied  she  heard 
the  mad  galloping  of  their  steeds  in  the  howling 
of  the  wind.  A  storm  of  this  kind  always  affected 
her  singularly.  The  fierce  warring  of  the  ele- 
ments found  an  echo  in  her  heart.  Oh,  to  toss 
off  the  load  that  oppressed  her,  to  rive  the  chains 
her  passive  cowardice  had  forged  around  her;  to 
be  free  once  more,  without  the  haunting  dread 
that  all  too  quickly  her  fate  was  closing  in  around 
her !  Towards  morning  the  storm  had  spent  itself. 
Slowly,  as  if  in  growling  protest,  the  reverberating 
thunder  withdrew  among  the  distant  hills.  A 
deliciously  cool  fragrance  filled  the  air.  She  flung 
up  her  window,  eagerly  welcoming  the  delightful 
change.  Then  she  fell  asleep. 

It  was  later  than  usual  when   she   arose.     It 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  241 

was  so  with  everybody.  After  the  terrors  of  the 
storm,  it  was  well  to  sleep.  Everybody  went 
abroad  to  view  the  havoc  that  had  been  wrought 
over  night.  Ruin  and  desolation  in  plenty  there 
was.  The  Frau  Pastorin's  blooming  garden  lay 
a  dreary  waste.  Here  and  there  a  rosebush,  soli- 
tary and  forlorn,  reared  its  ragged  branches, 
mourning  at  the  general  destruction.  Her  pretty 
bed  of  pansies,  in  which  every  variety  from  the 
velvety  purple  black  —  to  which  Hans  von  Czechy 
had  likened  Jette's  eyes  —  to  the  softest,  lightest 
blue  flourished,  was  entirely  wiped  out.  Ruin 
pointed  its  gaunt  finger  everywhere. 

It  was  a  memorable  storm.  Long  years  elapsed 
before  the  villagers  ceased  to  speak  of  it.  The 
superstitious  said  afterwards  it  had  been  a  fore- 
runner of  what  happened  later.  It  was  just  as 
well  no  one  possessed  the  gift  of  prophecy.  Be- 
sides, the  prophet  is  never  heeded. 

The  air  blew  soft  and  invigorating  from  the 
Rhine.  The  birds  chirped  merrily,  busily  en- 
gaged in  rebuilding  their  destroyed  homes.  One 
could  sniff  the  bracing  atmosphere  with  distended 
lungs  and  inflated  nostrils.  The  sun  smiled  in 
subdued  radiance.  Surely  everything  has  its  com- 
pensation. Hope  and  activity  resumed  their  sway 
in  the  human  breast.  One  could  repair,  rebuild, 
restore.  Things  were  not  so  bad,  after  all.  In 
fact,  they  might  have  been  a  great  deal  worse. 
After  each  had  summed  up  his  own  loss,  he  found 
consolation  in  that  his  neighbor  had  suffered  more 
than  himself. 


242  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

With  some  forebodings  and  a  good  deal  of 
trepidation,  Jette  went  forth  to  reconnoitre.  On 
the  shattered  wall  opposite  the  kitchen  door  hung 
a  meat  safe,  the  sides  and  door  of  perforated  wire. 
It  was  stout  and  strong,  and  had  steadily  opposed 
the  wear  and  tear  of  time.  "  Shier  dreissig  Jahre 
bist  du  alt,  hast  manchen  Sturm  erlebt,"  Jette 
often  laughingly  said.  Babbett  was  always  care- 
ful to  lock  it  at  night.  She  kept  her  larder  well 
replenished,  and  she  prided  herself  upon  having 
never  yet  been  taken  unawares,  no  matter  how  un- 
expected the  guests,  or  how  many  they  numbered. 
Of  late,  especially,  the  safe  was  more  than  usually 
well  stocked.  Substantial  solids  lined  its  stout 
shelves.  People  might  come,  and  people  might 
go:  Babbett 's  larder  was  prepared  for  all  contin- 
gencies. 

A  startled  cry  from  Jette  brought  her  to  the 
spot.  She  raised  her  hands  in  horror.  The  door 
swung  lamely  on  its  broken  hinges.  The  goodly 
contents  were  partly  gnawed,  and  all  scattered 
around  in  direst  confusion.  Some  of  them  lay  on 
the  ground,  some  dragged  to  a  distance,  and 
broken  dishes  topping  all.  On  the  broad  middle 
shelf  lay  Minka.  Her  fur  bristled  like  spikes, 
her  yellow  eyes  gleamed  viciously.  She  looked 
disreputable  and  wicked,  as  unkempt  and  neg- 
lected as  the  most  dissipated  night  prowler. 

"Thou  wretched  beast!"  shrieked  Babbett; 
"  't  is  thou  who  hast  wrought  all  this.  Woe,  woe, 
woe!  My  lovely  tongue,  my  delicious  shoulder, 
stuffed  just  to  suit,  and  fit  for  the  palate  of  a 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  243 

king!  Would  I  had  gorged  myself  like  a  porcu- 
pine and  died  of  repletion !  Thou  conscienceless, 
marauding  thief,  thou !  Mayest  thou  never  have 
anything  more  to  feed  on  than  the  memory  of  thy 
misbegotten  deeds !  Oh,  woe,  woe,  woe,  woe !  " 

Her  loud  lamentations  brought  out  the  rest  of 
the  family.  "What  is  the  matter  here?"  asked 
the  Pastor.  His  rapid  glance  took  in  the  situa- 
tion. "The  storm  must  have  done  this,"  he  said. 

"Does  the  storm  gnaw  and  leave  marks  of  its 
teeth?"  cried  the  incensed  Babbett;  "see  here, 
your  reverence.  'T  is  all  that  is  left  of  my  beau- 
tiful buttock,  as  juicy  and  tender  a  bit  of  beef  as 
ever  made  mouth  water.  Look  at  my  tongue, 
pink  as  a  baby's  cheek,  cut  but  a  short  time  from 
the  animal's  jaws.  'Twas  toothsome  enough  for 
an  epicure.  Here  is  my  ham,  as  fine  a  thing  as 
ever  sow  was  made  to  yield;  smoked  to  perfec- 
tion, as  indeed  I  have  good  reason  to  know. 
There  lies  what  is  left  of  all.  And  there  lies  the 
evil-doer." 

"  How, "  said  the  Pastor ;  "  Minka  —  thou  ?  " 

"Who  else?"  said  Babbett.  "There  she  lies, 
heavy  with  the  weight  of  her  ill-gotten  spoils. 
May  she  die  of  repletion,  the  wicked,  yellow-eyed 
monster." 

"The  door  must  have  blown  open,"  observed  the 
Frau  Pastorin,  "  and  Minka  sought  shelter  within. 
Being  hungry,  she  could  not  withstand  the  temp- 
tation." 

"It  merits  punishment,  nevertheless,"  answered 
the  Herr  Pastor.  "Come  here,  Minka,"  he  said 
sternly. 


244  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

She  had  lain  very  quiet,  with  lowered  eyes  and 
head  depressed,  as  if  she  knew  very  well  the  ex- 
tent of  her  transgressions.  Now  when  the  Herr 
Pastor  called  her,  she  still  made  no  effort  to 


move. 

M 


Art  obstinate  as  well  as  treacherous  ?  "  inquired 
the  Herr  Pastor.  He  lifted  her  off  the  shelf,  and 
gave  her  several  smart  slaps.  "Have  I  fed  thee " 
(slap)  "and  cherished  thee"  (slap)  "and  boasted 
of  thy  faith  and  loyalty  "  (slap)  "and  vaunted  thee 
over  all  thy  kind"  (slap),  "only  to  discover  the 
nature  of  the  beast  in  thee  uppermost?"  (slap.) 
"There,  go  thy  ways,  and  know  thyself  to  be  in 
disgrace  "  (slap,  slap). 

But  Minka  did  not  run  off.  She  looked  pite- 
ously  from  one  to  the  other.  She  rubbed  herself 
against  Jette  and  meowed. 

"Minka  is  telling  us  something,"  urged  Jette; 
"and  see!  she  is  too  weak  to  stand." 

"Too  gorged,  thou  meanest,"  screamed  the  en- 
raged Babbett.  She  took  hold  of  her,  and  sent 
her  sprawling  away.  Then  they  saw  that  where 
Minka  had  stood,  there  was  blood. 

"What  is  this?"  exclaimed  the  Herr  Pastor. 

Jette  hastily  put  her  head  inside  the  safe. 
"Look  in  there,"  she  said. 

Among  the  debris  of  broken  food  and  crockery 
the  fur  lay  thick  like  sand,  with  here  and  there 
a  clot  of  blood.  "And  look  here,"  cried  Jette; 
"the  rain  has  washed  away  the  traces  of  blood, 
but  in  places  it  glistens  on  the  pebbles.  See  here, 
and  there,  and  here —  Oh,  what  is  this?" 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  245 

A  clump  of  fur  literally  torn  off  the  body  lay 
at  her  feet.  It  was  black  as  coal,  with  specks  of 
blood  upon  it.  Minka  came  and  stood  over  it, 
snarling,  her  eyes  flaming  with  venom.  She 
seemed  unable  to  stand  upright,  but  steadied 
herself  painfully  against  the  wall. 

Like  lightning  sped  from  the  sky  Jette  flew 
to  the  dovecote.  The  storm  had  wrenched  off 
the  fastenings  of  the  door,  the  pigeons  sat  with 
depressed  heads  on  the  roof  of  the  smokehouse. 
Now  they  flew  to  meet  her,  pecking  at  her  hair 
and  neck,  all  but  one  white  dove.  He  sat  with 
lowered  crest  and  glazed  eyes. 

"Where  is  thy  mate?"  wailed  Jette.  "Where 
is  my  pretty  Giselle  ?  "  A  cry  from  the  Frau  Pas- 
torin  made  her  turn  swiftly.  There  was  her  pretty 
Giselle,  her  white  pet  dove,  stark  and  dead.  And 
there,  a  rod  further,  lay  Black  Peter  mauled  to 
death,  with  Minka  standing  over  him,  her  eyes 
glittering  in  ferocious  victory. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

"THAT  must  have  been  a  great  battle,"  said 
the  Herr  Pastor.  With  his  own  hands  he  had 
carried  Minka  home,  cut  away  the  fur  from  her 
wounds,  and  washed  and  dressed  them.  His  re- 
morse was  so  great  for  having  misjudged  her  that 
he  could  hardly  bear  her  out  of  his  sight.  He 
praised  her  and  petted  her,  and  she  blinked  her 
eyes  and  purred  in  delighted  satisfaction. 


246  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"'Tis  plain  enough,"  he  continued.  "Black 
Peter  was  prowling  around  as  usual,  and  when  the 
storm  blew  the  door  of  the  safe  open,  he  made  a 
raid  on  our  larder.  There  our  Minka  found  him, 
—  see  how  she  understands,  that  good,  brave  old 
girl,  —  and  a  fierce  fight  ensued.  Thou  madest 
the  thief  beat  a  retreat,  eh,  my  plucky  old  girl, 
and  lay  thyself  down  to  guard  thy  master's  pro- 
perty. Then  thou  heardest  the  fluttering  among 
the  pigeons,  and  hied  thee  to  the  dovecote  just  in 
time  to  avenge  the  death  of  Jettchen's  pet  dove. 
Ay,  but  thou  art  a  famous  creature !  " 

"If  only  her  hurts  won't  prove  fatal,"  said  the 
Frau  Pastorin  anxiously. 

"Do  not  fret  thee,  Mammachen;  'twere  too 
great  a  pity  for  her  to  die.  She  will  get  over 
them  bravely." 

"What  is  to  be  done  with  Black  Peter?"  asked 
Babbett;  "if  Gret  finds  our  Minka  has  killed 
him,  she  will  make  no  end  of  an  outcry.  Were 
it  not  better  to  put  him  out  of  sight?  She  will 
believe  he  perished  in  the  storm." 

"By  no  means,"  said  the  pastor;  "our  Minka 
conquered  him  in  fair  fight,  and  that  must  content 
her.  I  will  have  no  deceit,  tacit  or  otherwise." 

"'Tis  all  very  fine,"  said  Babbett,  when  Jette 
carried  out  the  breakfast  things;  "his  reverence 
doesn't  know  Gret  as  we  do.  She  will  try  and 
poison  our  Minka,  and  she  is  wicked  enough  to 
succeed.  Just  thou  stay  here,  and  keep  thy  eyes 
and  ears  shut.  What  I  am  going  to  do  now  is 
no  concern  of  thine." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  247 

She  went  to  the  tool-shed,  from  whence  soon  she 
emerged  with  spade  and  shovel.  Jette  knew  very 
well  she  was  going  to  dig  a  deep  hole  into  which 
presently  Black  Peter  would  be  flung.  It  would 
have  been  some  satisfaction  to  her  could  she  have 
assisted.  The  cruel  death  of  her  pet  dove  rankled 
sorely  in  her  heart. 

With  that  both  she  and  Babbett  thought  the 
matter  ended.  But  not  quite.  A  few  days  later, 
when  the  balmiest  sun  shone  on  newly  rejoicing 
hearts,  there  was  a  terrible  outcry.  It  came  from 
the  neighboring  pasture,  into  which  only  a  little 
while  since  Minka  had  strayed.  She  was  getting 
over  her  hurts  bravely,  and  would  not  be  kept 
indoors.  All  day  long  she  prowled  around,  seem- 
ingly vexed  and  ill  at  ease.  Now  Gret  came  fly- 
ing up  the  path,  panting,  and  in  a  fine  fume. 

"  Come  out  here !  "  she  shrieked.  "  Come  out,  all 
of  you !  I  want  to  know  who  has  done  this  shame- 
ful thing." 

Babbett,  who  sat  on  the  shaded  bench  just  out- 
side the  kitchen  door,  shelling  peas,  turned  quite 
pale.  Jette  was  in  the  arbor  not  far  off,  finishing 
some  fine  piece  of  embroidery  for  the  Frau  Pas- 
torin.  She  came  up  with  stern  displeasure. 

"Thou  wilt  rouse  the  Herr  Pastor  and  the  Frau 
Pastorin  from  their  afternoon  nap,"  she  said. 
"Cease  thy  outcries,  or  go  away  at  once." 

But  Gret  was  not  to  be  silenced  when  her  tem- 
per was  up. 

"I  don't  care  a  kreutzer!  "  she  cried  furiously. 
"What!  are  honest  people  to  be  cheated  out  of 


248  A  TENT   OF  GRACE 

their  own  while  thou  puttest  on  airs  and  graces, 
as  if  thou  didst  not  know?  Only  wait!  The 
whole  village  shall  hear  of  it." 

"Thou  grandmother  of  the  devil,"  said  Babbett, 
"come  out  with  what  thou  hast  to  say." 

"Come  over  yonder,  then,"  she  said,  "and  I 
will  show  ye."  They  went  with  her  to  the  pas- 
ture. It  was  there  Black  Peter  was  buried.  But 
how  on  earth  had  she  found  it  out? 

The  reason  was  very  plain.  That  terrible 
Minka!  So  that  had  been  the  cause  of  her  un- 
easiness. She  had  prowled,  and  sought,  and  given 
herself  no  peace  until  she  had  discovered  where  her 
slain  enemy  lay.  Her  sharp  claws  had  dug  and 
scratched  until  finally  she  had  come  upon  him. 
And  there  she  stood,  with  bristling  hide  and  ele- 
vated tail,  ferociously  jubilant  over  her  victory. 

Lieschen  was  with  her  mother.  She  was  droop- 
ing and  waxen,  like  a  delicate  azalea,  but  she 
persisted  in  living,  spite  of  all  the  headshakings 
and  predictions  of  the  old  crones.  The  little  three- 
year-old  was  afraid  of  the  big  cat,  who,  in  truth, 
looked  quite  formidable  enough  to  inspire  grown 
people  with  terror. 

"Come  away,  mammie,"  she  lisped. 

Gret  angrily  wrenched  her  slight  little  arm. 

"Be  quiet,  thou  brat,"  she  said  furiously,  "else 
I  '11  throw  thee  into  the  hole,  and  the  beast  of  a 
cat  shall  devour  thee." 

Lieschen  shrieked  with  horror  and  fright.  Jette 
raised  her  in  her  arm,  sheltering  the  little  golden 
head  in  her  breast. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  249 

"Thou  spawn  of  the  evil  one!  "  said  the  enraged 
Babbett.  She  did  not  care  now,  and  was  deter- 
mined to  have  it  out.  In  fact,  it  was  a  relief 
to  the  simple  old  soul  to  have  all  discovered.  It 
had  lain  heavy  on  her  heart,  and  she  felt  quite 
guilty  at  tunes.  "How  such  an  one  as  thou," 
she  said,  "  came  to  have  a  child  like  that  poor  little 
innocent,  'tis  the  Lord's  business  to  understand. 
What  wert  thou  prowling  around  here  for,  any- 
how? The  devil,  thy  master,  must  have  sent 
thee." 

"Aha! "  vaunted  Gret,  with  malicious  triumph, 
"no  web  is  spun  so  fine  but  the  sun  one  day  on 
it  will  shine.  So  ye  thought  to  conceal  your 
misdoings  from  me,  did  ye?  Death-dealers  ye 
are,  and  ye  know  it.  Ye  have  killed  my  cat,  my 
poor  Peter,  my  faithful  Peter,  boo-hoo-hoo !  My 
g-g-good  Peter !  Must  I  see  thee  lie  there  stark 
dead  and  cold?" 

"Thou  art  foolish,  Gret,"  said  Jette;  "the 
night  of  the  storm  our  Minka  found  him  stealing 
our  meats  and  killing  our  pigeons.  They  fought, 
and  she  killed  him." 

"A  likely  story,"  blustered  Gret  between  her 
sobs. 

"Hush  thy  howling!"  said  Babbett  fiercely; 
"thou  didst  no  more  care  for  him  than  the  veriest 
stranger.  'T  is  only  thy  wanton  love  for  mischief 
that  urges  thee  to  this  outcry.  Thou  used  to  kick 
him  out  in  all  weathers,  and  ventedst  thy  ill  humor 
on  him,  —  just  as  thou  dost  on  this  poor  child,  — 
and  refused  him  food  and  drink.  A  thief  and 


250  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

marauder  was  he.  That  is  what  thou  madest  of 
him." 

"How,"  shrieked  Gret,  "ye  call  me  thief  and 
marauder?" 

"Nay,  I  said  not  that.  All  the  same,  I  would 
not  give  this,"  she  snapped  her  fingers,  "for  the 
difference  between  ye.  He  stole  meats,  —  thou 
filchest  people's  characters.  Wherever  thy  slan- 
derous tongue  finds  a  hearing,  there  is  a  putting 
together  of  heads  and  hissings  like  unto  the  ser- 
pent's. Thou  fattenest  on  gossip  like  a  capon, 
and  devourest  thyself  for  curiosity  about  thy  neigh- 
bors' affairs.  Go  home,  sweep  thy  neglected 
house,  braid  thy  unkempt  hair,  darn  thy  man's 
torn  hose,  and  put  thy  prying  nose  into  the  soup- 
pot,  instead  of  meddling  with  what  does  not  con- 
cern thee." 

"Thou  needest  not  think,"  jeered  Gret,  "be- 
cause thou  belongest  to  the  pastor's  family,  thou 
canst  take  his  office  upon  thyself.  What  I  know, 
I  know.  I  am  not  quite  so  simple  that  thou  canst 
make  me  believe  that  an  X  stands  for  a  U.  The 
whole  village  shall  know  how  Black  Peter  came 
by  his  death,  and  how  ye  sought  to  hide  it.  And 
as  for  that  accursed  witch  in  the  guise  of  a  cat, 
I  '11  treat  her  the  same  as  my  poor  Peter  was 
treated." 

She  advanced  threateningly  towards  Minka, 
who,  snarling  like  a  catamount,  with  dangerously 
gleaming  eyes,  crouched  back,  as  if  for  a  spring. 

"Do  not  touch  her,"  cried  Jette,  in  terror;  "she 
will  fasten  upon  thee,  and  tear  thy  eyes  out." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  251 

"Bah!  I  am  not  afraid  of  her,"  said  Gret,  but 
she  prudently  drew  back.  "  What  a  beast !"  she 
said;  "sure  she  is  the  fiend  incarnate  himself. 
She  actually  seems  to  grow  double  her  size  as  one 
looks  at  her." 

"Thou  thinkest  so  because  thy  eyes  are  set 
crosswise  in  thy  head,"  said  Babbett  maliciously; 
"  on  thy  life,  do  thou  never  meddle  with  her.  The 
creature  does  not  like  thee,  and  in  that  she  shows 
her  wisdom." 

Gret  angrily  snatched  Lieschen  from  Jette's 
arms.  "I  '11  be  even  with  ye  yet,"  she  said. 

"Leave  Lieschen  with  me,"  pleaded  Jette. 
The  poor  little  thing!  She  was  so  fond  of  her 
beautiful  young  protectress.  No  wonder.  What 
had  such  a  child  in  common  with  such  a  mother? 

"That  ye  may  kill  her  like  ye  did  Black  Peter?  " 
taunted  Gret,  with  clenched  teeth.  She  turned 
and  went. 

"I  wish,"  said  Babbett,  looking  after  her, 
"that  she  was  in  the  same  hole  with  her  cat.  Of 
the  two,  she  surely  is  the  most  evil." 

"One  could  almost  pity  her,"  said  Jette,  "for 
being  such  an  ignorant,  maliciously  conditioned 
creature.  All  the  same,  't  was  not  nice  of  thee  to 
say  what  thou  didst  just  now." 

"I  know  her  better,  than  thou,"  said  Babbett, 
as  they  walked  back  to  the  house;  "all  her  life 
she  has  been  so.  She  is  a  firebrand  from  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah.  She  is  in  the  cards  all  the  Lime. 
Again  and  again  have  I  tossed  them  aside,  vowing 
never  to  look  at  them  any  more.  Then,  whenever 


252  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

the  need  to  see  what  is  going  to  happen  overcomes 
me,  there  she  turns  up  with  her  squint  eyes  and 
leering,  wicked  mouth." 

"  What  a  clever  card  to  assume  such  a  true  like- 
ness," smiled  Jette. 

"Ah,  thou!  jeer  thou  and  laugh.  Perhaps 
't  would  be  as  well  for  thee  if  thou  wouldst  take 
some  little  heed  in  time." 

"  Thou  good  Babbett !  I  did  not  mean  to  offend 
thee.  'T  is  a  long  time  since  thou  hast  laid  the 
cards  for  me.  To-day  is  Friday,  eh?  'Tis  an 
auspicious  day  to  have  one's  fortune  told." 

"Nay,"  said  Babbett,  "I  have  done  with  them. 
'T  is  too  much  aggravation  of  mind  and  spirit  to 
work  out  their  meaning.  One  would  rather  see 
what  one  wants  to  see.  When  everything  works 
contrary,  't  is  best  not  to  know  it.  What  is  that 
big  thing  in  front  of  our  house?  Jesus  Maria! 
As  I  live,'  t  is  the  post-chaise.  While  we  were 
wrangling  over  yonder,  the  Herr  Doctor  has  come." 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

FROM  the  arbor  at  the  other  side  of  the  house 
came  pleasantly  excited  voices.  It  was  there  the 
family  chiefly  gathered  during  the  hot  summer 
months.  All  the  meals  were  served  there.  The 
Herr  Pastor's  chess -table  and  easy  leather  chair 
stoou  Against  the  wall,  as  well  as  the  Frau  Pasto- 
rin's  sewing-table  and  large  old-fashioned  work- 
basket.  A  spreading  vine  completely  covered  the 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  253 

open  trellis-work,  through  which  here  and  there 
gleamed  bunches  of  purple  grapes.  Every  autumn 
there  was  a  rich  harvest  from  this  vine,  where  the 
luxurious,  gleaming  fruit  clustered  so  thickly  as 
to  form  a  perfect  roof  overhead.  Tubs  of  oleander 
stood  at  either  side  of  the  entrance,  around  which 
the  straggling  tendrils  were  draped  and  festooned 
quite  artistically,  so  as  to  leave  sufficient  light 
within.  It  looked  cosy,  home-like,  and  inviting, 
with  the  low-cushioned  ottoman  in  one  corner,  the 
white-painted,  rush-bottomed  chairs  and  round 
table  in  the  centre,  spread  with  a  gay  red  cloth 
that  looked  well  against  the  background  of  dark 
green  leaves.  One  could  see  the  green  fields 
spreading  far  down  the  undulating  valley,  with 
the  gently  dipping  hills  beyond,  on  which  the 
sheep  were  browsing.  Now  and  then  a  tiny  silver 
thread,  winding  in  and  out  like  a  string  of  pearls 
in  the  fair  locks  of  beauty,  flashed  upon  the  vision. 
It  was  the  purling  forest  brook,  which  at  that  dis- 
tance widened  into  a  stream,  where  it  hastened, 
dreamily  murmuring,  to  join  the  blue  Rhine.  One 
could  sit  here  and  muse,  and  steep  one's  soul  in 
ineffable  peace  and  serenity  of  mind,  and  rejoice 
in  the  pure  joy  of  living,  with  never  a  discord  in 
the  harmonious  hymn  of  nature.  It  was  home, 
such  as  God  from  the  first  intended  all  homes 
should  be. 

No  wonder,  with  this  picture  in  his  mind,  the 
doctor  had  come  back  to  rest.  During  those  three 
years  of  absence  he  had  worked  harder  than  had 
many  before  him.  However,  there  was  this  gratify- 


254  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

ing  thing  to  be  said,  —  he  had  achieved  something. 
Position  and  renown,  such  as  no  man  of  his  age 
in  the  profession  had  ever  acquired  in  so  short 
a  time,  was  cordially  accorded  him.  Nature  had 
been  his  loyal  helpmate.  Without  his  stalwart, 
splendid  physique  and  robust  health,  which  had 
never  been  abused  by  excesses,  he  would  have 
dropped  by  the  wayside  as  many  a  less  fortunately 
gifted  one  would  have  done.  With  a  great  task 
set  before  him,  he  had  steadily  kept  this  in  view, 
ignoring  temptation  with  an  iron  will,  keeping 
well  in  the  race  till  the  home  stretch  was  reached. 
His  fame  as  oculist  spread  far  and  wide;  the 
most  difficult  and  delicate  operations  were  confided 
to  his  skill.  The  most  tempting  inducements 
were  held  out  to  keep  him  in  Vienna.  But  over- 
study  and  over-exertion  had  at  last  their  usual 
effect  on  even  his  Herculean  frame.  Kepeated 
summons  to  stop  came  rudely  knocking  to  warn 
him,  each  one  more  importunate  than  the  other. 
One  morning  Vienna  woke  up  to  find  its  honored 
and  beloved  Dr.  Feldern,  with  his  valise  in  one 
hand,  the  other  extended  in  farewell,  ready  to 
depart.  We  beg  pardon,  —  Dr.  von  Feldern.  In 
grateful  recognition  for  the  successful  operation 
on  the  eyes  of  a  near  relative  of  the  throne, 
Dr.  Feldern  had  been  invested  with  a  high  order, 
which  raised  him  into  the  ranks  of  the  nobility. 
He  was  entitled  now  to  prefix  a  "von"  before 
his  name.  Gay,  coquettish  Vienna  pouted  that 
it  could  find  no  inducement  sufficiently  strong  to 
detain  its  popular  guest.  It  shook  him  heartily 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  255 

by  the  hand,  and  lisped  a  siren  "Auf  Wieder- 
sehen."  Then  it  dried  its  eyes,  and  after  the 
manner  of  coquettes,  was  on  with  the  new  love 
before  the  old  one  was  fairly  off. 

Gay,  fascinating,  alluring  Vienna!  "Auf  Wie- 
dersehen?"  Well,  hardly.  Leaning  back  in  the 
post-chaise,  "erster  klasse,"  Herr  Dr.  Friedrich 
von  Feldern  was  perfectly  clear  on  that  point. 
In  his  mind  one  fixed  purpose  was  firmly  rooted. 
Years  ago  it  had  spread  out  its  first  timid  feelers, 
striking  deeper  and  firmer  as  time  went  on.  Like 
a  beacon  light  it  had  gleamed  during  the  long, 
dreary  interval  of  absence  and  restless  activity, 
drawing  him  nearer,  ever  nearer.  And  now  he 
had  come  home. 

Babbett  hurried  into  her  kitchen  to  prepare 
such  savory  dishes  as  she  knew  from  past  expe- 
rience the  son  of  the  house  relished  most.  Sub- 
lime in  the  confidence  of  her  own  skill,  no  thought 
of  a  probably  spoiled  palate  troubled  her.  Good 
old  Babbett !  She  would  have  taken  up  the  skim- 
mer and  ladle  with  a  born  Vatel,  confident  in  the 
victory  of  her  own  prowess.  Jette  went  up  to 
her  room  to  see  if  her  white  muslin  dress  retained 
its  spotless  purity.  She  scrutinized  herself  in  the 
glass  and  smiled.  She  always  smiled  when  she 
looked  at  herself.  It  was  in  pure  sympathy  with 
her  own  loveliness.  The  rippling  masses  of  her 
glossy  black  hair  were  in  perfect  order.  Near  the 
centre  of  the  immaculate  white  parting  a  fugitive 
lock  strayed  caressingly.  It  looked  so  pretty  she 
decided  not  to  coax  it  back.  The  two  long  curls 


266  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

behind  either  ear  she  twined  afresh  around  her 
forefinger,  tightened  the  thick  coil  of  hair  above 
the  nape  of  her  neck,  and  put  on  her  lace-frilled 
fichu.  The  doctor's  arrival  left  her  quite  indiffer- 
ent. But  then,  it  was  only  natural  one  should  want 
to  look  one's  best;  one's  own  self-esteem  as  well  as 
the  honor  of  the  house  demanded  it. 

"Thou,"  said  Babbett,  when  she  entered  the 
kitchen,  "make  what  haste  thou  canst  with  the 
coffee,  and  take  it  out  to  them.  How  lucky  I 
made  a  cake  this  morning.  Surely  the  Herr 
Doctor  requires  refreshment  after  his  long,  tedious 
journey.  Confidences  there  have  been  exchanged 
enough  for  the  present.  Thou  wilt  take  the  best 
silver  coffee  service,  of  course.  Here  is  a  dish  of 
raspberries  the  Herr  Doctor  dearly  loves,  and 
there  is  the  cream.  Haste  thee  now,  and  be  not 
squeamish  about  interrupting." 

Hurriedly  Jette  ran  out,  and  cut  the  stems  of  a 
handful  of  roses.  There  were  not  many  left  over 
from  the  recent  storm.  These  were  buds  which 
had  come  out  since,  but  very  sweet  and  fragrant 
they  looked,  with  their  half -open  leaves  unfolding 
to  the  sun.  She  lined  the  pink  china  bowl  with 
fresh  green  leaves,  and  gently  piled  the  berries  on 
top.  When  her  tray,  spread  with  a  snowy  cloth, 
was  ready,  the  slender-stemmed  vase  with  the 
flowers  in  the  midst,  the  berries  topped  here  and 
there  with  a  gleaming  bluebell,  the  whole  sur- 
rounded with  the  fine  old  silver,  Babbett  surveyed 
it  with  some  pride. 

"I  must  say,"  she  uttered,    "everything  thou 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  257 

dost  seems  to  have  a  gift  of  its  own.  Anybody 
might  have  arranged  it  exactly  like  that,  still  it 
would  not  look  the  same.  The  Herr  Doctor  may 
be  spoilt  with  grandeur,  but  nowhere  could  he 
have  things  sweeter  or  more  appetizing.  Here  is 
the  cake.  Now  bestir  thyself.  They  will  be  sniff- 
ing the  aroma  of  the  coffee  and  wondering  it  does 
not  come.  Is  that  tray  not  overheavy  for  thee?  " 

"Heavy?"  Jette  laughed,  as  she  caught  it  up 
in  her  hands ;  "  I  could  lift  thee  with  it,  and  not 
find  it  heavy." 

As  she  came  near  the  arbor,  the  happy,  ani- 
mated talk  ceased.  The  Herr  Pastor  sat  one  side 
of  the  round  centre  table,  his  long-stemmed  pipe 
unlit,  his  black  skull-cap  pushed  back  on  his  scant 
gray  hairs.  His  soft,  faded  cheek  was  flushed,  his 
beautiful  soft  brown  eyes  sparkled  as  they  hung 
on  his  son's  face.  The  Frau  Pastorin  sat  at  the 
other  side  of  the  table,  her  hand  clasping  that  of 
her  son.  The  tears  she  had  shed  on  his  arrival 
still  lingered  on  her  cheek;  she  looked  quite  ex- 
hausted with  the  intensity  of  her  emotions.  For 
the  first  time  in  her  life  —  and  probably  the  last 
—  Jette  saw  that  her  cap  was  askew.  Her  heart 
must  indeed  have  been  stirred,  if  she  could  have 
abandoned  herself  so  entirely  to  her  feelings. 

The  doctor  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table  between 
father  and  mother.  He  wore  a  green  shade  over 
his  eyes,  so  that  only  the  lower  part  of  his  face 
was  visible.  His  long,  blonde  mustache,  the  tips 
of  which  he  had  always  worn  slightly  curled  up- 
ward, had  developed  into  profuse  luxuriance.  It 


258  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

was  of  a  bright  gold  color,  silky,  and  exceedingly 
well  kept.  His  mouth  was  completely  hidden 
by  it,  leaving  just  a  glimpse  of  the  beautifully 
curved,  soft  underlip.  But  the  exposed  chin 
showed  massive  firmness  and  strength,  an  obsti- 
nacy of  purpose  unconquerable  as  death.  Here 
spoke  the  will  of  the  man,  the  determination  that 
what  he  undertook  to  do  he  would  do  with  all  his 
might  and  strength,  ignoring  all  obstacles,  true  to 
his  resolve,  like  a  hero  to  his  colors.  One  liked 
him  for  this  immensity  of  will-power,  and  sub- 
mitted meekly  to  his  superiority  of  strength.  His 
whole  physique  inspired  one  with  confidence  and 
trust.  His  deep,  broad  chest  had  widened,  his 
entire  appearance  was  that  of  strong,  aggressive, 
self-reliant  manhood.  As  Jette  set  down  the  tray, 
and  he  rose  to  greet  her,  he  towered  fully  a  head 
and  shoulders  above  her,  so  that  tall  as  she  was, 
she  appeared  to  herself  small  and  insignificant 
beside  him. 

"Is  this  Jettchen  —  Fraulein  Jettchen?  "  he 
said. 

His  tone  was  singularly  soft  and  low  for  his 
full,  deep  voice.  It  vibrated  like  the  strings  of 
a  harp  in  the  wind.  Like  a  flash  their  last  inter- 
view darted  across  Jette's  mind.  The  night  be- 
fore his  departure,  when  he  had  found  her  safely 
home  after  she  had  run  away  from  the  picnic,  and 
he  had  talked  to  her  as  she  had  never  in  her 
wildest  dreams  expected  him  to  speak,  and  he 
had  kissed  her  —  Bah !  what  folly  was  this !  She 
laid  her  hand  in  his  firm,  warm  clasp,  and  it 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  259 

seemed  as  if  an  electric  shock  rooted  her  to  the 
spot.  If  he  had  chosen  to  retain  her  hand  for  a 
year,  she  could  not  have  withdrawn  it.  Helpless, 
bewildered,  intensely  angry  with  herself,  she  looked 
up  at  his  towering  height,  and  saw  the  smile 
deepen  around  his  lips.  Slowly  and  lingeringly, 
like  an  inward  caress,  he  released  her  hand.  She 
instantly  busied  herself  in  arranging  the  table. 
A  fright  and  confusion  she  had  never  experienced 
in  her  life  made  her  hands  tremble  and  her  whole 
frame  quiver.  Worlds  she  would  have  given  to 
see  his  eyes.  Underneath  the  odious  shade  he 
could  watch  her  perfectly.  What  made  him  smile 
in  that  exasperating  manner,  and  sit  as  if  en- 
tranced ?  He  had  always  had  a  strange  effect  on 
her ;  if  he  only  looked  at  her,  she  felt  as  if  every 
pore  in  her  body  bristled  with  aggressiveness. 
But  why?  It  was  only  because  she  had  never 
felt  at  her  ease  with  him  that  made  her  awkward, 
self-conscious,  and  self -constrained  in  his  presence. 
Donkey !  Was  it  not  about  time  to  outgrow  this 
feeling  and  appear  perfectly  self-possessed?  To 
behave  like  a  stupid  rustic,  —  truly,  a  fine  idea  he 
must  have  of  her. 

But  the  Frau  Pastorin,  who  knew  nothing  of 
all  this,  laughed.  "Thou  need'st  not  be  formal 
with  our  Henriette,"  she  said,  "though  she  is 
grown  up  and  quite  a  woman  now.  No  matter 
what  changes  may  take  place  soon,  with  us  she 
will  always  be  the  same,  eh?"  She  nodded  at 
her  son,  and  laughed  slyly,  as  she  patted  the  girl's 
hand. 


260  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

A  spasm  contracted  Jette's  heart,  as  it  always 
did  whenever  the  most  covert  allusion  was  made 
to  her  marriage.  The  silver  coffee-pot  she  poised 
in  her  hand  clinked  against  the  cup  she  was  about 
to  fill.  With  a  wild,  piteous  gaze  she  glanced  at 
the  doctor.  She  knew  he  was  regarding  her. 
Did  he  know  ?  Had  his  parents  told  him  ? 

"Thou  speakest  in  riddles,  dear  mamma, "  said 
the  doctor ;  "  what  is  it  thou  meanest  by '  changes '  ?  " 

"As  if  thou  didst  not  know,"  laughed  his  mo- 
ther; "have  I  not  told  thee  everything  in  my 
letters?" 

For  an  instant  he  was  silent.  Then  he  said 
very  deliberately,  "Am  I  to  congratulate?" 

"Now,  now,  now,"  deprecated  the  Herr  Pastor, 
"there  is  no  hurry,  no  hurry  at  all.  Wait  till  the 
suitor  comes,  then  't  will  be  time  enough  to  decide." 

"Matters  are  decided!"  ejaculated  the  Frau 
Pastorin  sharply.  "  Thou  dear  Heaven !  I  think 
the  banker  has  behaved  exemplary  enough.  Thou 
surely  canst  find  no  further  excuse  to  put  him  off. 
Let  the  wedding  take  place,  say  I,  as  quickly  as 
possible.  'T  will  be  a  great  comfort  to  me  when 
all  is  settled." 

"I  don't  see  much  comfort  in  giving  up  Jett- 
chen,"  ventured  the  Herr  Pastor,  "just  as  she  has 
grown  almost  indispensable  to  us." 

"Nay,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin,  "I  '11  not  deny 
we  shall  miss  her  extremely.  But  we  cannot  let 
our  comfort  stand  in  the  way  when  such  a  chance 
presents  itself  for  settling  her  in  life.  Marry  she 
will  have  to,  sooner  or  later.  We  have  to  accus- 
tom ourselves  to  the  idea,  that  is  all." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  261 

"And  Jettchen,"  hazarded  the  doctor,  "is  she 
satisfied?" 

She  could  feel  him  looking  at  her,  and  a  great 
fright  seized  her.  Now  —  now,  if  the  opportunity 
came,  and  she  might  perhaps  speak  out,  —  but  the 
Frau  Pastorin  interrupted  sharply. 

"How  thou  talkest,  Fritz.  What  is  a  penni- 
less girl  to  do,  but  to  be  glad,  and  happy,  and 
thankful  at  the  chance  of  becoming  a  rich  man's 
wife.  'T  is  one  in  a  million.  But  men  are  all 
alike.  Thou  speakest  just  like  thy  father,  as  if 
she  had  but  to  choose  and  be  satisfied." 

"We  will  not  spoil  Fritz's  home-coming  with 
any  such  debates,"  cried  the  Herr  Pastor  cheerily. 
"Thou  art  a  dear,  famous  girl,  Jettchen,  to  have 
anticipated  the  wants  of  my  languishing  palate. 
Come,  another  cup.  No  one  can  brew  coffee  like 
thee.  A  little  more  cream,  please.  Thou,  Fritz, 
hast  thou  tasted  anything  more  famous  in  thy 
much-vaunted  Vienna?  " 

"I  will  tell  thee,"  answered  the  doctor  grimly, 
"whenever  it  may  please  Jettchen  to  serve  me." 

"Thou  dear  Heaven!  Henriette  —  nay,  girl, 
what  ails  thee?  Art  dreaming,  or  bereft  of  sense? 
Thou  shouldst  have  served  him  first,  as  he  needs 
it  the  most.  And  now  I  suppose  what  is  left  is 
cold, "cried  the  Frau  Pastorin,  highly  exasperated. 

"I  will  run  and  make  some  more,"  exclaimed 
the  girl,  in  real  distress.  "How  could  I  be  so 
forgetful?  I  beg  your  pardon,  Herr  Doctor,  a 
thousand  times."  She  seized  the  coffee-pot,  and 
was  about  to  rush  off,  but  he  lifted  his  hand,  which 
bespoke  so  much  power. 


262  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"You  will  stay,"  he  said,  "and  pour  out  what 
is  left.  I  do  not  care  for  scalding-hot  coffee  in 
such  weather.  I  shall  enjoy  immensely  what  you 
will  give  me." 

She  handed  him  his  cup,  and  their  hands  met. 
Tremblingly  she  withdrew  hers,  and  set  the  cake 
and  fruit  before  him.  All  this  she  did  with  such 
gracious  humility  as  if  she  could  not  make  up 
enough  for  her  neglect. 

"  It  is  very  warm, "  she  murmured,  fanning  herself 
with  her  handkerchief.  She  went  to  the  entrance 
of  the  arbor,  and  breathed  deeply.  "If  you  do 
not  want  me  any  more  "  —  she  began  hesitatingly. 

"But  we  do,"  said  the  doctor.  "I  want  more 
coffee,  and  you  must  serve  me  with  more  raspber- 
ries. I  have  not  tasted  any  like  these  since  I  left 
home." 

"Thou  wert  ever  fond  of  them,"  observed  his 
mother,  hugely  enjoying  his  relish  for  home  food 
once  more. 

"Now,  Jettchen,"  he  said,  "since  you  have 
served  me,  I  will  wait  upon  you.  I  see  you  are 
not  inclined  to  join  us.  Here  is  your  cup,  and 
here  is  a  piece  of  cake.  Will  you  please  sit 
down?" 

She  blushed,  and  was  angry  with  herself  for 
doing  so.  The  pastor  gently  pulled  her  down  on 
a  chair  beside  him.  Since  the  prospect  of  losing 
her,  she  had  grown  very  dear  to  him. 

"Big  as  thou  art,  Fritz,"  he  remarked  fondly, 
"thou  actest  the  spoiled  child  still.  Thou  hadst 
ever  a  way  of  making  people  do  as  thou  pleased." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  263 

"Thou  hast  not  told  us  about  Herr  von  Czechy," 
said  the  Frau  Pastor  in. 

Jette  looked  up  eagerly.  "Hans,"  said  the 
doctor,  "is  very  happy.  A  trifle  more  dignified, 
perhaps,  as  becomes  the  magnate  of  large  estates. 
But  the  same  impulsive,  hot-headed,  open-hearted 
fellow.  He  completely  dominates  his  wife.  It  is 
both  comical  and  touching  to  see  how  she  idolizes 
him.  They  have  two  lovely  twin  children.  The 
boy  was  born  first,  and  is  called  Henri.  The 
girl's  name  is  Henriette." 

Jette  uttered  a  cry  of  delight.  "That  is  in 
compliment  to  thee,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  doctor,  "he  is  very  loyal, 
and  will  never  forget  the  service  Jettchen  did  him. 
What  say  you  of  looking  them  up  on  your  wed- 
ding trip,  Jettchen  ?  They  would  give  you  a  right 
royal  welcome,  I  assure  you." 

"How  cruel  he  is,"  thought  the  girl,  with  a 
sickening  fear.  The  Frau  Pastorin  nodded  her 
head,  well  pleased.  She  always  encouraged  allu- 
sions to  the  wedding.  It  was  as  if  with  that  she 
wanted  to  banish  some  misgivings  of  her  own. 

Babbett  came  out  to  tell  the  Herr  Pastor  a 
peasant  wanted  to  see  him  about  his  sick  cow. 
At  the  same  time  she  wanted  to  gratify  her  very 
pardonable  eagerness  to  greet  the  Herr  Doctor. 
She  had  rocked  his  cradle  when  he  was  born,  and 
darned  his  little  torn  pinafores  when  he  was  in 
dread  of  punishment  from  mamma,  and  dragged 
him  to  the  pump  when  he  had  rolled  in  the  mud, 
and  consoled  him  when  he  was  put  in  a  corner  with 


264  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

his  face  to  the  wall,  and  surreptitiously  conveyed 
goodies  to  him  when  banished  from  table.  She 
was  old,  work-worn,  and  wrinkled  now,  and  he 
had  grown  up  into  as  perfect  manhood  as  ever 
was  seen  between  the  Neckar  and  the  Ehine.  He 
was  the  Herr  Doctor  now ;  proper  respect  had  to 
be  maintained.  But  in  her  heart  he  was  always 
Fritzchen,  the  flaxen-haired  baby  she  had  petted 
and  spoiled  and  spanked. 

Of  course  she  was  greeted  with  effusion.  That 
doctor  was  a  rascal,  and  knew  exactly  where  the 
feminine  heart  is  most  vulnerable,  be  it  with 
queen  or  peasant.  A  little  affection  goes  a  great 
way  with  either.  Exactly  as  of  old,  he  put  his 
arm  around  the  dried-up  little  body's  neck,  and 
saluted  her  with  a  smack  that  could  be  heard  in 
the  next  pasture.  The  dear  old  thing  blushed, 
and  quivered  all  over  with  delight. 

"Nay,  but  what  a  man  thou  hast  grown,"  she 
said,  looking  up  at  him  with  tremendous  respect. 
"I  —  I  beg  pardon,  you,  I  mean,"  she  corrected 
herself  hastily. 

He  laughed,  took  her  up  as  if  she  had  been  a 
shuttlecock,  lifted  her  high  in  the  air,  then  set 
her  down  as  gently  as  if  she  were  made  of  porce- 
lain. The  rest  laughed,  but  Babbett  was  very 
much  ruffled. 

"It  did  not  need  that  to  convince  me  how 
strong  you  are,"  she  said;  "in  future  I'll  take 
very  good  care  not  to  come  near  you." 

He  tapped  her  affectionately  on  the  shoulder. 
"Thou,"  he  said,  "thou 'It  open  thy  eyes  when 
I  '11  show  thee  what  I  have  brought  thee." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  265 

She  smirked,  all  her  good  humor  restored  to 
think  he  had  not  forgotten  her.  The  Frau  Pas- 
torin  went  back  with  her  to  the  kitchen  to  consult 
about  the  state  of  the  larder.  The  Herr  Pastor 
had  already  gone  to  his  study  to  see  the  peasant 
who  had  the  sick  cow.  Jette  and  the  doctor  were 
left  alone. 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence.  Mechanically 
the  girl  commenced  to  collect  the  scattered  plates 
and  cups,  and  heaped  them  on  the  tray.  The 
arbor  was  not  very  large,  so  she  had  to  edge  her 
way  between  the  chairs,  and  came  quite  close  to 
him.  He  laid  his  hand  upon  hers. 

"You  have  not  yet  asked  me  how  I  am,"  he 
said. 

Heavens !  Was  that  his  voice  ?  Was  it  possi- 
ble that  it  could  thrill  and  vibrate  and  modulate 
with  such  divine,  caressing  softness  ?  Like  a  band- 
age that  is  gradually  removed  from  eyes  allowed 
for  the  first  time  to  see,  she  began  to  grope,  dimly, 
hesitatingly  at  a  possibility  which  convulsed  her 
with  terror.  Trembling  in  every  limb,  she  tried 
to  withdraw  her  hand.  But  he  held  it  firmly  in 
his  strong,  warm  clasp.  That  clasp  which  em- 
braced her  wrist  also,  which  noted  every  beat  of 
her  wildly  leaping  pulse. 

"When  friends  meet  after  a  long  absence,"  con- 
tinued he,  "have  they  nothing  to  say  to  each  other 
but  the  cold  formalities  of  the  outside  world?  " 

"Friends,"  she  said  faintly.  She  looked  up  at 
him.  He  raised  the  disfiguring  shade,  and  flung 
it  on  the  table.  She  saw  his  eyes,  those  beautiful, 


266  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

soft  brown,  radiant  orbs,  looking  into  her  own. 
She  could  not  move,  he  held  her  enthralled,  draw- 
ing forth  her  soul,  absorbing  it  forever.  Her  lips 
were  slightly  parted,  as  if  breath  were  suspended; 
only  the  quivering  of  the  nostrils  gave  signs  of 
life.  It  was  as  if  a  whirlpool  of  fire  clutched  her 
and  she  went  down,  down,  in  the  eddying  current. 
The  torch  flung  into  her  breast  kindled  into  fiercest 
exulting  life,  and  would  never,  never  be  quenched 
any  more. 

The  gravel  on  the  path  outside  crunched  under 
a  heavy  step.  He  caught  up  the  green  shade, 
and  readjusted  it  over  his  eyes.  She  staggered 
back,  flung  her  hands  up  before  her  face,  and  fled 
from  the  spot. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

A  GREAT  change  had  come  over  Jette.  The 
merry  snatches  of  song  which  roused  the  echoes  of 
the  parsonage  were  heard  no  more.  The  joyous 
elasticity  of  her  step  became  languid  and  subdued. 
There  were  shadows  around  her  eyes  when  she 
came  down  of  a  morning ;  the  rose  in  her  cheek 
was  transformed  into  a  pale  lily.  More  stately 
she  seemed  to  have  become,  and  there  was  a 
majesty  in  the  way  she  held  her  head  and  looked 
at  one  which  took  away  a  good  deal  from  her 
girlishness,  but  gave  the  added  charm  of  the 
woman.  She  was  very  little  in  the  house,  but 
found  a  constant  excuse  for  being  out  of  doors. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  267 

"If  you  will  come  and  look  at  my  garden,"  she 
said  to  the  Frau  Pastorin,  "you  will  see  that  a 
great  deal  of  work  is  needed  yet  before  it  looks 
like  itself  again.  Babbett  can  manage  in  the 
house  very  well  without  me.  I  must  get  every- 
thing in  proper  condition  again." 

"Thou  art  good  and  dutiful,"  said  the  Frau 
Pastorin,  "and  wouldst  not  leave  anything  to 
reflect  on  thy  neatness  before  thou  goest,  eh? 
'T  is  the  way  I  would  like  thee  to  be,  dear  child. 
'T  is  creditable  to  the  way  thou  hast  been  brought 
up,  and  surely  thy  husband  will  bless  me  for  it." 

Jette  shuddered  as  if  the  ague  clutched  her. 
Minka  came  up,  purring,  rubbing  herself  affec- 
tionately against  the  girl's  dress. 

"No,  thou  canst  not  come,"  she  said  pettishly; 
"thou  art  forever  following  me  as  if  I  were  a 
mouse,  and  thou  wert  only  wraiting  to  gobble  me 
up.  Go  thy  ways,  thou  treacherous  thing." 

"Now,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin,  opening  her 
eyes  very  wide,  "how  comest  thou  to  such  foolish 
talk?  The  creature  fairly  dotes  on  thee,  and 
thou  knowest  it.  Art  thou  not  well  ?" 

The  girl's  lips  quivered.  She  stooped  down, 
caught  the  big  tabby  in  her  arms,  and  bent  over 
to  caress  her.  The  tears  had  welled  up  into  her 
eyes,  and  she  wanted  to  hide  them. 

"I  have  a  little  headache,"  she  muttered. 

"Thou!"  ejaculated  the  Frau  Pastorin.  Her 
astonishment  grew  and  grew.  It  was  the  first 
time  in  her  life  the  hearty,  healthy  girl  complained 
of  such  a  thing.  "Nay,"  she  said  gravely,  "that 


268  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

needs  attending  to.  I  shall  ask  Fritz  to  catechize 
thee,  for  't  is  best  to  take  heed  in  time.  Now  I 
come  to  look  at  thee,  thou  dost  not  seem  the  same 
as  usual.  Thou  shouldst  appear  thy  very  best  now 
for  the  honor  of  the  bridegroom's  coming.  Go  to 
thy  garden,  but  do  not  exert  thyself.  Remember 
it  will  have  to  do  without  thee  very  soon." 

She  went  to  join  her  husband  and  son,  who  sat 
on  the  shaded  bench,  smoking  and  enjoying  the 
delicious  morning  air,  while  Jette  went  to  fetch 
her  large  shade  hat  and  gloves. 

"Something  has  come  over  her,"  said  the  Frau 
Pastor  in  suddenly.  The  Herr  Pastor  and  the 
doctor  looked  up,  startled. 

"I  mean  Henriette.  Just  now  she  complained 
of  headache.  'T  is  extraordinary.  'T  is  unheard 
of." 

"Bah,"  said  the  pastor,  with  equanimity,  "young 
girls  are  privileged  to  put  forward  excuses  of  that 
kind." 

"  'T  was  not  an  excuse,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin ; 
"she  is  not  spoilt  that  way.  Dost  thou  not  find 
Henriette  much  changed,  Fritz?" 

"She  has  grown  up,"  said  the  doctor,  "exactly 
into  what  I  fancied  she  would." 

The  doctor  certainly  had  a  great  advantage  over 
others.  In  wearing  the  shade  over  his  eyes,  one 
could  see  very  little  of  his  face.  Therefore,  when 
sometimes  —  as  now  —  his  words  and  tone  were  at 
variance  with  each  other,  he  left  his  listeners 
greatly  in  doubt  as  to  what  he  really  meant. 
Several  days  had  now  elapsed  since  his  arrival, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  269 

and  he  declared  himself  already  greatly  benefited, 
but  his  eyes  still  had  to  be  protected,  and  would 
for  some  time  to  come. 

"She  is,"  said  the  pastor,  "like  one  of  Solo- 
mon's songs, —  all  myrrh  and  sweet-smelling  things 
and  frankincense.  She  has  a  majesty  of  mien 
which  well  might  have  become  the  Biblical  queens 
of  old.  I  grudge  her  to  the  man  she  is  to  marry. 
Much  rather  would  I  see  her  led  to  the  altar  by 
one  more  akin  to  herself.  'T  is  grotesque  to  see 
them  together." 

"Every  advantage  has  its  disadvantage,"  replied 
the  Frau  Pastorin ;  "  with  him  she  will  have  a  life 
like  a  queen.  'T  was  extremely  lucky  for  her  mat- 
ters shaped  themselves  this  way.  Thou  knowest 
very  well  what  the  poor  men  of  her  faith  are. 
Her  comeliness  would  weigh  very  lightly  against 
her  want  of  dowry,  I  assure  thee.  'T  would  have 
been  her  greatest  drawback.  Her  womanhood 
would  have  been  dragged  into  the  dust  by  degrad- 
ing drudgery  and  irksome  surroundings.  I  war- 
rant thee,  'twould  be  far  more  grotesque  to  see 
her  brought  down  thus,  living  her  foolish  mother's 
life  over  again,  than  a  trifling  discrepancy  in 
appearance." 

"Mamma,"  asked  the  doctor  suddenly,  "hast 
thou  ever  asked  her  if  she  cares  for  him?" 

"  How  thou  talkest,  Fritz !  Of  course  she  cares 
for  him.  How  can  she  help  it?  How  could  any 
girl  help  caring  for  a  man  who  has  perfectly  ex- 
hausted himself  in  devotion?  Has  he  not  waited 
patiently  for  three  long  years?  Have  not  his 


270  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

family  received  her  with  every  mark  of  approba- 
tion? Has  she  not  seen  sufficiently  during  her 
visits  there  the  splendor  and  luxury  of  the  life 
awaiting  her?  My  only  wonder  is  that  she  did 
not  clamor  to  return." 

"Thy  logic  seems  very  well  sustained,"  smiled 
the  pastor,  stroking  her  hand  softly ;  "  but  confess 
thou  didst  not  reason  this  way  when  we  were 
married." 

"Confess,"  she  said  affectionately,  taking  him 
by  the  ears,  "that  thou  art  an  old  donkey.  Ever 
and  always  thou  forgettest  how  exceptionally  she 
is  placed." 

"That  is  true,"  answered  the  pastor,  with  a  sigh. 
"  Since  I  have  seen  her  blossom  into  most  gracious 
girlhood,  I  have  often  wished  her  faith  did  not 
separate  her  from  us.  'T  would  have  simplified 
matters  so  much.  'T  is  most  likely  she  looks  for- 
ward with  some  trepidation  to  the  coming  of  the 
banker.  That  may  account  for  her  sober  mood." 

"If  'tis  as  mamma  thinks,"  remarked  the  doc- 
tor, "a  concern  of  her  health,  it  concerns  me  also. 
As  guardian  of  the  family's  well-being,  'tis  my 
special  privilege  to  find  out.  I  shall  seek  her, 
and  she  shall  come  out  with  the  truth,  never  fear." 

"I  told  her  I  would  tell  thee,"  replied  the  Frau 
Pastorin;  "do  thou  question  her,  Fritz.  I  would 
that  now  of  all  times  she  should  look  her  best. 
Thou  'It  find  her  in  the  garden  adjoining  the  or- 
chard. And  listen,  thou.  Do  not  let  her  work 
in  the  sun.  What  matters  now?  The  garden 
will  have  another  care-taker  soon." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  271 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

As  if  he  had  not  known  where  to  find  her;  as 
if  he  had  forgotten  all  her  favorite  haunts  and 
nooks,  and  where  she  would  most  likely  fly  for 
refuge;  as  if  he  had  not  hungered  and  watched 
for  this  opportunity  to  catch  her  alone,  the  first 
she  had  given  him  since  his  home-coming,  in  the 
arbor  where  they  had  stood  eye  to  eye,  heart  re- 
vealed to  heart  at  last.  As  he  vaulted  lightly  over 
the  fence  inclosing  the  orchard  from  the  dusty 
chaussee,  he  saw  the  drooping  boughs  of  the  old 
sycamore  under  whose  spreading  branches  he  knew 
she  sat,  with  the  purling  brook  babbling  its  secret 
at  her  feet.  She  had  often  idly  wondered  what 
the  brook  could  have  so  much  to  murmur  about, 
repeating  the  same  story  over  and  over  again. 
Now  she  knew.  She  listened  with  eyes  staring 
wide  in  the  distance,  her  pale,  hopeless  face  more 
wondrously  fair  against  the  frame  of  lustrous 
black  hair  than  it  had  ever  seemed  to  him  with 
the  bloom  of  joyous,  unthinking  youth  upon  it. 
The  great  cat  lay  near  her,  stretched  full  length  in 
the  sun,  her  gleaming  topaz  eyes  occasionally  blink- 
ing at  her  young  mistress.  The  doctor's  footfall 
made  no  sound  on  the  springy  turf,  and  he  was  upon 
her  before  she  fairly  knew  it.  The  rosy  dawn  of 
consciousness  kissed  her  face  and  throat,  and  made 
her  thrill  all  over.  He  sat  down  on  the  broad  stone 
beside  her,  necessarily  very  close,  for  the  seat  was 
hardly  wide  enough  to  hold  both.  He  could  feel 


272  A  TENT   OF  GRACE 

her  tremble ;  his  own  pulses  vibrated  in  touch  with 
hers.  He  took  off  his  hat  and  let  the  heavenly 
breezes,  blowing  straight  from  the  Rhine,  cool  his 
heated  brow  and  revel  among  his  soft,  thick  fair 
curls.  He  looked  down  upon  her  drooping  head, 
where  the  glossy  coil  of  darkest  hair  showed  in 
most  striking  contrast  with  the  strip  of  snowy  neck 
beneath,  and  upon  this  spot  let  his  famished  eyes 
rest.  Now  he  was  contented,  happy,  and  at  ease 
as  he  had  never  in  his  life  been  before.  So  might 
the  first  man  and  the  first  woman  have  looked, 
sitting  in  their  Garden  of  Eden,  perfect  in  the 
image  of  Him  who  had  just  created  them,  before 
a  stupid  posterity  obliterated  and  defaced  what 
there  was  of  divine. 

"  Jettchen,"  he  murmured  softly. 

She  made  no  answer.  Her  chin  nearly  touched 
her  breast.  The  fingers  of  her  hand  lying  in  her 
lap  nervously  interlaced  each  other.  He  sepa- 
rated them  gently  and  retained  hold  of  them. 

"  You  must  not,"  he  said,  as  she  endeavored  to 
withdraw  them.  "  I  am  only  trying  to  feel  your 
pulse.  My  mother  sent  me  here  to  find  out  what 
ails  you." 

She  looked  at  him  in  amazement.  "  Your  mo- 
ther !  "  she  stammered. 

"  Is  it  so  strange  she  should  feel  concerned 
about  you?  She  thinks  you  are  troubled  about 
something.  Will  you  not  tell  me  what  it  is  ?  " 

Oh,  the  caressing  love  in  his  voice.  The  domi- 
nating, magnetic  touch  upon  her  wrist.  "There 
is  nothing  —  nothing  the  matter  with  me." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  273 

"  You  cannot  impose  upon  the  physician,  or  — 
upon  the  lover." 

For  a  moment  she  sat  transfixed,  steeped  from 
head  to  foot  in  quivering  ecstasy.  But  not  for 
her  was  this  sweetest  of  all  joys.  Now  she  would 
have  to  show  what  mettle  she  was  made  of. 

"  Herr  Doctor,"  she  ventured  timidly. 

He  smiled,  inclining  his  stately  head.  "Not 
quite  so  formal,  if  you  please." 

"  May  —  may  I  earnestly  beg  a  favor  of  you  ?  " 

From  beneath  his  shade  he  watched  her  keenly. 
For  the  matter  of  that,  his  eyes  had  never  left  her 
face. 

"  It  depends,"  he  answered,  "  upon  the  nature  of 
your  request." 

"  I  would  beg  of  you  to  go  away  —  to  go  away 
till  all  is  over  —  that  is  —  I  mean  —  until  —  until 
I  am  gone  for  good." 

"  H'm !     And  where  wouldst  thou  go  ?  " 

"  You  —  you  know  what  is  impending.  He  — 
he  will  be  here  very  soon.  Only  a  short  time  — 
then  all  will  be  over.  I  —  I  will  let  them  hurry 
matters  just  as  they  wish." 

"  Dear  child,"  said  the  doctor  amiably,  "  thou 
wilt  have  to  be  a  little  more  explicit,  if  I  am  to 
understand  thee." 

No,  he  would  not  help  her.  He  played  with 
her  feelings  as  Minka  would  with  a  mouse. 

She  muttered  brokenly,  "  You  must  know  what 
I  mean ;  it  has  been  discussed  openly  enough.  I 
am  to  be  married  —  it  will  be  soon  now  —  he  —  he 
may  already  be  on  his  way.  It  —  it  will  soon  be 
over.  Then  —  you  —  can  return  here." 


274  A   TENT   OF  GRACE 

"  Why  should  I  go  away  ?  What  does  this  man 
concern  me?" 

She  stared  at  him,  white  to  the  lips.  Strong 
shudders  shook  her  frame.  Beads  of  agony  stood 
upon  her  brow.  He  flung  his  arm  around  her  and 
strained  her  passionately  to  his  breast. 

"  Thou  shalt  be  tortured  no  more,  poor,  brave, 
darling  child.  Thou  hast  not  been  defenseless 
all  this  time.  Have  I  not  loved  thee  ever  since 
the  dawn  of  the  morning  thou  stood'st  over  my 
sleeping  form  on  the  ground  over  yonder  and 
badest  me  arise  and  follow  thee  ?  Like  a  young 
goddess  thou  stood'st  in  the  wake  of  the  rising 
sun,  thy  bared,  milk-white  arm  raised  to  the  path 
of  light,  the  glow  drawing  closer  and  closer  thy 
heavenly  form  in  its  amorous  embrace.  So  prayed 
I  one  day  to  enfold  thee,  and  to  that  end  have  I 
labored  and  struggled  and  toiled,  denied  myself 
all  indulgences,  opposed  an  iron  determination 
to  temptation,  and  kept  myself  free  of  all  evil, 
that  when  the  time  came  I  might  give  thee  an 
embrace  as  virgin  as  thy  own.  For  three  long 
years  I  have  fed  upon  thy  image,  and  have  seen 
thee  always  thus,  —  what  thou  hast  grown  up  into, 
—  thou  dearest,  fairest  of  all  fair  maids.  Thy 
sweet  presence  has  been  the  polar  star  which 
guided  me  to  the  goal,  —  a  goal  I  swore  to  myself 
I  would  reach  before  that  other  one  should  claim 
thee.  For  what  purpose,  dost  thou  think,  have 
the  letters  flown  between  here  and  Vienna,  and 
the  least  trivial  circumstance  been  laid  hold  of, 
but  to  keep  myself  fully  informed  of  everything 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  275 

concerning  thee?  For  what  my  sudden  return? 
And  now,  love  me,  —  love  me  a  little,  for  indeed 
my  famished  soul  has  hungered  long  and  patiently 
enough." 

He  lifted  her  arms  and  put  them  around  his 
neck.  He  had  raised  the  shade  from  his  eyes,  and 
looked  blissfully,  silently  into  her  own.  He  and 
she  alone  in  the  world,  —  let  no  one  dare  come  be- 
tween them.  She  had  sat  as  one  stunned,  reason 
and  judgment  carried  away  by  the  mighty  torrent 
of  his  avowal.  Now  she  knew  why  he  had  kissed 
her  the  night  before  he  went  away.  The  kiss 
which  he  had  just  redeemed,  which  had  waited  for 
him  all  these  years !  Father  in  heaven !  Could 
such  bliss  be  —  only  to  be  tantalized  with  it !  To 
renounce  —  ay,  that  was  it.  To  renounce,  to 
hunger,  to  go  through  life  with  a  heart  of  lead. 
He  had  not  reckoned  with  the  consequences,  but 
she  —  she  knew. 

"  I  am  but  a  simple  girl,"  she  said,  "  weak,  as 
the  dear  Lord  has  fashioned  my  sex.  Lend  me 
the  strength  of  your  superabundant  manhood,  that 
it  may  fortify  me  with  what  I  have  to  say." 

There  was  a  grandeur  in  her  voice,  the  look  with 
which  she  regarded  him,  which  inspired  him  with 
infinite  pity  and  respect.  All  her  arguments  he 
knew  beforehand,  and  how  they  would  leave  him 
untouched.  Of  what  use  was  it  to  match  her  will 
against  his?  In  the  whole  world  there  existed 
but  one  thing  for  him,  —  his  love  for  her,  her 
love  for  him.  All  else  would  have  to  adjust  itself 
to  this.  He  freed  her  from  his  embrace,  and  she 


276  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

rose  and  leaned  against  the  tree,  looking  at  him 
with  her  clear,  beautiful  eyes. 

"  If  nothing  divided  us,"  she  began,  "  I  would 
now  prostrate  myself  before  the  Giver  of  all 
things,  and  bless  Him  for  the  inexpressible  boon 
of  life.  The  angels  might  envy  such  happiness 
as  your  words  for  a  moment  gave  me.  Now,  my 
most  ardent  wish  is  that  I  may  die,  that  I  may  be 
wiped  off  the  face  of  the  earth,  never  to  be  seen 
or  heard  of  any  more." 

He  folded  his  arms  and  sat  still.  It  would  all 
have  to  come  out,  —  the  sooner  the  better.  After 
that  —  well,  he  had  his  plans.  A  fierce  exulta- 
tion swelled  his  breast,  —  the  longing  for  battle, 
in  which  he  knew  he  would  subdue  and  come  off 
conqueror. 

"  That  I  may  die,"  she  repeated.  "  The  torch 
you  have  set  flaring  high  in  my  heart  will  burn 
and  rage  forever.  The  fire  of  your  words  has 
scorched  me.  Heaven  beckons  with  joy  divine, 
and  I  have  to  plunge  into  deepest,  deepest  hell." 

"  Where  is  the  necessity  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  ask  me  ?  Ah,  you  know.  Duty  demands 
it  —  the  regard  for  others.  What !  Shall  I  like  a 
serpent  fasten  the  fangs  of  treacherous  ingratitude 
into  your  parents'  hearts,  and  make  them  curse  the 
day  they  rescued  me  from  the  highway?  You 
forget  what  I  was  when  I  first  came  here. 
Beaten,  all  but  stoned  to  death,  your  father  took 
me  in  his  arms  like  one  of  his  stray  sheep,  and 
he  and  your  mother  nursed  me  back  to  life,  and 
opened  its  joys,  its  usefulness,  and  possibilities  to 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  277 

me.  They  rescued  me  from  the  gutter,  and  shel- 
tered and  fed  and  loved  me,  and  brought  me  up  in 
truth  and  honor  and  righteousness.  All  my  life 
they  have  willed  nothing  but  what  was  good  and 
best  for  me." 

"  In  all  that,"  observed  the  doctor,  "  there  is  no- 
thing which  disqualifies  you  to  become  my  wife." 

She  shuddered  and  closed  her  eyes.  "  You,  the 
Christian,  I,  the  Jewess  ?  " 

"Bah!  What  matters  to  either  of  us?  Thy  re- 
ligion is  to  love  me  —  mine  to  love  thee.  'T  is  so 
as  God  intended.  With  the  barricades,  hate,  su- 
perstition, prejudice  has  hedged  around  us,  neither 
thou  nor  I  have  anything  to  do." 

"  As  long  as  we  depend  upon  and  mingle  with 
our  fellow  creatures  we,  too,  are  penned  within 
those  narrow  confines.  Our  puny  strength  would 
soon  fall  exhausted  before  its  combined  force.  I 
should  be  a  millstone  around  your  neck,  the  dead 
weight  under  which  you  would  sink  to  destruction. 
Your  career,  so  gloriously  begun,  and  stretching 
in  a  vista  of  fame,  honor,  and  renown  before  you, 
would  be  ruined  forever.  Those  who  now  regard 
you  with  admiration  and  respect  would  banish  you 
from  their  midst.  Strong  as  you  may  be  in  your 
love  and  loyal  to  its  duties,  great  as  may  be  your 
courage  to  withstand  and  your  resolve  to  conquer, 
you  would  inevitably  go  under.  And  I  —  I  should 
have  the  agony  of  seeing  you  sink,  my  ever-rest- 
less conscience  repeating  the  heartbreaking  re- 
frain, '  'T  is  thy  work ;  thou,  thou  hast  done  this.'  " 

"  Is  my  manhood  a  jest  ? "  asked  he  sternly. 


278  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  Am  I  weak  enough  to  let  myself  become  a  by- 
word? Am  I  a  puppet  to  allow  others  to  mould 
my  destiny  ?  For  what  dost  thou  take  me  ?  For 
what  was  my  strength  and  steadfastness  given  me  ? 
Is  not  my  own  sound  sense  and  judgment  to  con- 
trol my  actions,  my  own  honor  and  rectitude  to  be 
my  guide  ?  Thou  arguest  from  thy  own  inexperi- 
ence and  limited  standpoint.  This  spot  of  earth  is 
not  the  whole  world.  Courage  enough  have  I  to 
wrestle  with  it,  and  wherever  I  go  it  will  give  me 
my  bread.  Fling  away  this  faint-heartedness  of 
thine.  With  thee  by  my  side,  let  what  may  betide. 
A  loving  heart  thou  wilt  ever  have  to  cherish  thee, 
a  stout  arm  to  protect  thee,  a  right  lusty  good  will 
to  maintain  thee  a  home  in  which  thou  and  I  can 
be  alone  with  our  happiness." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  Your  parents,  —  they 
will  never  consent." 

"  Come,  place  thy  hand  in  mine.  This  instant 
will  we  put  it  to  the  proof." 

"Your  mother's  heart  would  break.  Your  fa- 
ther,—  his  stern  principles  of  rectitude  and  honor, 
—  they  would  revolt  against  the  very  idea  of  such 
a  union." 

"  Because  we  love  each  other  ?  " 

"  Because  my  religion  stands  between  us.  Like 
an  impenetrable  wall  of  granite,  it  towers  between 
you  and  me.  The  synagogue  will  cast  me  out,  it 
will  lay  its  ban  upon  me.  Nowhere  shall  I  find 
any  rest.  Even  my  bones  will  be  forbidden  an 
abiding-place.  Isolated  here  and  hereafter  shall 
I  dwell,  —  never  on  the  day  of  resurrection  shall  I 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  279 

see  the  face  of  father  or  mother  again.  Nowhere 
will  a  hand  in  greeting  be  extended  to  me.  I 
shall  be  banished  from  their  midst." 

"  Humph !  thy  fears  may  make  thee  exaggerate. 
Thou  and  I  will  visit  thy  rabbi  and  speedily  find 
out.  And  even  if  't  were  so,  —  our  love  is  such  it 
has  to  be  battled  for.  Hast  thou  not  the  courage 
for  that  ?  Nay,  the  prospect  but  steels  my  nerves 
and  puts  my  mettle  on  edge.  As  I  have  said,  — 
this  spot  of  earth  is  not  the  whole  world." 

She  gazed  at  him  sadly.  "  The  world  is  wide 
enough ;  happy  and  miserable  people  dwell  every- 
where. But  the  ban  of  which  I  speak  would  not 
be  left  here.  Wherever  I  went,  —  to  the  remot- 
est corner  of  the  earth,  —  would  it  pursue  me. 
There  would  be  no  fleeing  from  it.  Night  and 
day  would  it  stalk  like  a  spectre  at  my  side,  turn 
the  laugh  of  merriment  to  a  ghastly  groan,  blanch 
the  color  upon  my  lips,  and  quench  the  light  in 
my  eyes.  Daily,  hourly,  you  would  see  me  wither, 
and  shrink  and  listen  in  horror  for  the  invisible 
footstep  beside  me." 

He  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  passed  his  hand 
over  her  brow. 

"Priests'  talk,"  he  said  contemptuously ;  "hell's 
wiles,  with  which  to  intimidate  the  strong  and  turn 
the  brain  of  the  weak.  Dear,  dear  heart!  how 
canst  thou  conjure  up  such  unhealthy  images  and 
fever  thy  brain  with  such  unholy  things?  Such 
teachings  emanate  from  the  devil,  not  from  the 
Pure  Source  of  Love.  Trust  to  me,  my  own,  dear, 
dear  one.  These  arms  are  strong  enough  to  shelter 


280  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

thee  ;  my  love  shall  protect  thee  from  all  evil. 
Only  be  a  little  strong  and  firm  thyself.  Such 
images  as  thou  conjuredst  up  but  now  exist  no- 
where but  in  the  disordered  imagination.  When 
thou  art  mine,  there  will  be  no  more  room  for  such. 
Give  thyself  into  my  guidance.  Dost  not  think  I 
am  strong  enough  to  do  battle  for  both  ?  " 

"Oh,"  she  uttered,  "'tis  not  for  myself  that  I 
fear.  What  matters !  I  have  been  a  passive  cow- 
ard all  these  years,  —  now  the  end  must  come. 
Let  it  bring  what  it  will,  —  I  dare  not  drag  you 
down  to  ruin." 

"  Thou  canst  say  this  with  my  arms  enfolding 
thee?" 

"  Father  in  heaven,"  she  prayed,  "  give  me 
strength.  Grant  me  the  fortitude  to  do  what  is 
right.  Imbue  me  with  the  spirit  which  demands 
this  sacrifice  for  the  welfare  of  those  nearest  and 
dearest  to  me." 

"  The  cry  of  a  faint  heart,"  replied  the  doctor, 
"  which  would  trample  upon  itself  without  bene- 
fiting others.  Mark  this,  dearest,  and  mark  it 
for  all  time.  With  me  thou  canst  not  reckon  this 
way.  If  —  in  a  mistaken  idea  of  duty  —  thou  con- 
templatest  giving  thyself  to  this  man,  I  will  pluck 
thee  from  his  embrace.  At  the  moment  the  word 
of  consent  is  about  to  pass  thy  lips,  I  will  step  for- 
ward, and,  throwing  all  considerations  to  the  winds, 
claim  thee  as  my  own.  Welcome  will  be  the  op- 
portunity to  end  all  this  needless  concealment  and 
pain.  My  love  is  too  sacred  to  make  a  flaunting 
thing  of,  and  fain  would  I  rejoice  in  this  sweet, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  281 

stolen  communion  for  a  little  while  longer  before 
sordid  worldly  argument  rears  its  obnoxious  head. 
Thy  love  and  mine,  —  dear,  dear  heart.  But  if 
thou  f orcest  me  to  it,  —  why,  then  I  take  up  the 
gauntlet  willingly.  Dost  credit  me  with  so  little 
manhood  that  I  would  ever  yield  thee  to  another, 
Cro3sus,  king,  or  emperor,  though  he  be  ?  " 

"  It  must  be,"  she  answered,  the  tears  streaming 
down  her  cheeks, "  or  disaster  will  overtake  us  all." 

"  What !  and  take  thee  in  his  arms  like  this  ? 
—  and  kiss  thy  lips  thus  ?  —  and  lay  thy  head  upon 
his  bosom  so  ?  —  and  gird  his  neck  with  thy  snowy 
arms?" 

"  I  will  kill  myself !  "  she  cried ;  "  I  will  deface 
what  there  is  of  allurement  in  this  unfortunate, 
unhappy  face.  All  shall  shudder  who  come  to 
look  upon  it.  Father  in  heaven !  I  dare  not  drag 
thee  down  to  destruction." 

"  Thou  wilt  not  do  that,  because  the  same  bier 
that  bears  thy  lifeless  body  hence  will  also  con- 
tain mine.  Thy  life  and  mine  are  indissolubly 
bound  to  each  other.  Whatever  thou  dost  to 
thyself,  thou  dost  to  me.  Dance,  sing,  be  happy, 
so  wilt  thou  rejoice  my  heart;  steel  me  for  the 
struggle  to  come,  that  we  may  attain  the  end. 
Such  natures  as  thine  and  mine  were  not  made  to 
go  through  life  scathless.  We  will  have  to  fight 
for  our  happiness,  but  —  in  the  end  it  will  come." 

"  Oh,  no  !  oh,  no  !  oh,  no  !  "  she  said  desolately, 
"  such  happiness  as  this  was  never  given  to  mortals 
to  enjoy.  Too  truly  does  my  foreboding  heart 
tell  me  that  it  can  never  be." 


282  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  Be  brave  only  a  little  while  longer,"  he  urged ; 
"  reckon  with  this  obnoxious  suitor  for  all  time  to 
come.  Then  will  I  take  thy  hand  and  ask  my 
parents  for  their  blessing.  At  first  they  may 
demur,  but,"  he  threw  back  his  head  proudly, 
44 1  am  a  man,  and  shall  exert  a  man's  right  to 
shape  my  own  destiny.  There  is  nothing  in  thee 
the  sternest  demands  of  honor  or  rectitude  can 
object  to.  A  king  might  be  proud  to  place  thee 
on  the  throne  beside  him.  Thy  religion  ?  Bah ! 
thou  mayest  bend  the  knee,  or  prostrate  thyself, 
or  worship  in  any  manner,  fashion,  or  form  it 
pleases  thee,  —  only  love  me,  that  is  all  I  ask.  In 
thy  heart  dwells  the  divine,  thy  soul  is  immortal. 
Travel  thy  own  route  for  reaching  the  Eternal 
Bourne,  —  be  sure  thou  takest  me  with  thee.  My 
soul  will  follow  thy  footsteps,  devoutly  grateful 
for  such  an  unerring  guide.  Hand  in  hand  there, 
as  here  in  earth,  will  we  step  before  the  Father, 
and  He  will  not  say  us  nay,  or  refuse  either  thee 
or  me  his  benediction." 

Now  of  her  own  accord  she  put  her  arms  around 
his  neck.  Admiration,  love,  grief,  all  striving  so 
violently  with  one  another  that  she  could  hardly 
speak. 

"Who  would  not  love  thee?"  she  breathed. 
"Oh,  if  there  were  only  more  like  thee!  Alas, 
alas,  the  more  noble  and  lofty  thou,  the  more 
useless  thy  struggles !  Thou  wilt  be  derided, 
jeered,  laughed  ?t.  Oh,  my  heart,  my  heart,  my 
heart!  Nay,  let  me  weep,  weep,  till  my  heart 
breaks.  Fritz,  dear,  dear  Fritz,  —  for  I  will  call 


A  TEXT  OF  GRACE  283 

thee  so  for  the  first,  the  last  time,  —  nay,  let  me 
weep."  She  sank  to  her  knees,  her  arms  stretched 
to  heaven,  her  piteous  sobs  convulsing  her  limbs, 
"I  dare  not,  dare  not  grasp  the  heaven  thou 
boldest  out  to  me.  For  thee  and  for  me  there 
remains  but  one  thing  —  renunciation." 

"  Never,"  he  replied  firmly.  "  As  sure  as  yon 
sun  shines  in  heaven  and  will  shine  again  to-mor- 
row, and  for  decade  upon  decade,  long  after  the 
least  speck  of  dust  of  thy  bones  and  mine  remains, 
surely  will  I  never  yield  thee  to  another.  Pit  not 
thy  will  against  mine.  Useless  are  thy  struggles, 
and  that  in  the  end  thou  wilt  find." 

"  If  my  comeliness  were  defaced,"  she  asked, 
"if  I  were  disfigured,  hideous,  —  surely  thou 
wouldst  not  love  me  any  more  ?  " 

"  I  would  love  thee  as  long  as  a  shred  remained 
of  thee.  And  if  —  which  God  forbid !  —  anything 
untoward  of  the  nature  thou  speakest  of  were  to 
happen,  the  same  should  happen  also  to  me,  so 
that  thou  shouldst  not  feel  shamed  in  looking  at 
me.  Thou  must  not  let  such  unhealthy  thoughts 
rise  within  thee.  Strong  and  perfect  of  mind  and 
body  thou  art,  and  so  it  shall  be  my  care  thou 
shalt  remain.  The  great  Creator  of  all  has  cast 
thee  in  his  own  divine  mould,  just  to  show  an 
ungrateful  posterity  what  his  creatures  from  the 
first  were  intended  to  be.  'Tis  a  sacred  trust, 
and  take  thou  heed  thou  dost  no  blasphemy  by 
not  taking  all  possible  care  of  it,  and  like  a 
faithful  servant  guarding  it  with  all  due  precaution 
and  care." 


284  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

He  raised  her  to  her  feet  and  seated  her  on  the 
stone  beside  him.  Her  head  he  pillowed  on  his 
shoulder,  and  drew  her  close  within  his  sheltering 
arm.  She  was  perfectly  passive,  for  her  strength 
was  spent. 

"  Rest  thee,  Geliebte,"  he  said  so  softly  the 
angels  might  have  whispered  it.  "  Then  we  will 
go  home." 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

"  LEID'L  heb's  Fuessel  in  die  Hoeh'  heut'  geigt 
der  Strauss,"  hummed  the  doctor,  in  the  charming 
Viennese  vernacular.  His  magnificent  baritone 
was  subdued ;  dreamily  he  watched  the  blue  rings 
from  his  cigar  mingle  with,  then  lose  themselves 
in  the  fleecy  summer  clouds.  It  was  the  day  after 
his  interview  with  Jette.  He  had  hardly  seen 
anything  of  her  all  day,  and  this  made  him  some- 
what restless.  He  wanted  to  know  how  she  felt, 
for  he  knew  that  a  depressing  lassitude  had  fol- 
lowed the  terrible  mental  strain  of  yesterday.  Of 
what  use  was  her  fuming  and  fretting  ?  She  could 
not  lay  any  plans  without  his  circumventing  them. 
Happy  he  wanted  her  to  be,  happy  and  joyous  as 
of  old,  —  to  come  to  him  with  the  dancing  step 
which  bespoke  her  superabundant  vitality,  to  look 
at  him  with  her  half-wistful,  half-roguish  eyes,  to 
see  the  dimples  round  her  mouth  chased  away  by 
laughter,  to  feast  his  eyes  upon  the  harmonious 
picture  which  had  tantalized  him  with  its  shadow 
long  enough.  To  his 'mother's  anxious  inquiries 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  285 

about  the  result  of  his  interview,  he  gave  her 
cheerfully  to  understand  that  everything  would 
adjust  itself  of  its  own  accord  once  the  "bank 
affair "  was  disposed  of.  But  Jette  must  not  be 
kept  in  the  house.  It  was  very  natural  she  should 
feel  restless,  therefore  what  so  beneficial  for  her 
as  the  open  ? 

However,  she  had  managed  very  cleverly  to  keep 
herself  indoors.  In  the  morning,  at  breakfast,  a 
pain  like  a  dagger-thrust  struck  his  heart  when 
he  saw  her.  So  wan  and  piteously  self-torturing 
he  had  never  thought  it  possible  a  night  of  agony 
could  make  her.  Her  voice  bespoke  the  suffering 
of  her  heart.  She  was  so  quiet,  so  subdued,  so 
touchingly  humble  in  her  despair.  It  would  go 
hard  with  her  —  that  he  knew  from  the  first. 
That  she  should  grieve  and  condemn  herself  like 
this  had  not  entered  into  his  calculation.  He 
would  not  stand  it,  he  could  not.  Much  he  was 
willing  to  concede  to  her,  for  in  one  thing  she 
was  right,  —  it  would  be  highly  injudicious  to 
take  his  parents  by  storm.  He  owed  them  duty 
and  consideration,  especially  his  mother,  who  was 
now  in  that  trying  period  of  a  woman's  life  where 
both  mind  and  body  have  to  be  most  delicately 
considered.  Jette  must  be  brought  to  listen  to 
reason  and  to  act  accordingly.  In  this  trial  she 
was  not  alone.  Some  regard  was  due  to  him  also, 
—  did  she  find  no  consolation,  no  compensation  in 
his  love  at  all,  then  ? 

That  no  one  should  notice  her  distress,  he  rattled 
on  during  breakfast  in  a  manner  which  showed 


286  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

that  he  was  still  the  same  roguish,  boyish-hearted 
Fritz  of  old.  This  roused  the  Herr  Pastor's  love 
of  fun,  whose  heart  had  never  outgrown  its  infancy. 
So  nonsensical  and  merry  were  they  that  the 
punctilious  Frau  Pastorin  spilled  her  coffee  several 
times,  her  hand  shook  so  with  laughter.  For  this 
she  was  fined  on  the  spot,  just  as  Fritz  —  when  he 
was  little  Fritzchen  —  had  been  for  any  accident 
to  the  spotless  table  linen.  Once  she  had  to  kiss 
the  Herr  Pastor  on  the  bald  spot  of  his  head, 
which  she  did  with  much  loving  unction  ;  another 
time  she  had  to  give  the  tips  of  the  doctor's 
luxurious  mustache  a  bolder  twist,  which  she  also 
did,  with  a  hearty  kiss  on  the  tempting  lips  besides  ; 
a  third  time  she  was  requested  to  count  the  hairs 
in  Minka's  whiskers,  which  she  did  not  do.  It 
was  a  happy,  merry  meal,  which  the  four  composing 
it  had  good  cause  to  remember.  Under  his  shade 
the  doctor  looked  at  Jette,  and  his  mood  became 
almost  hilarious  when  he  saw  the  smile  come  to 
her  lips.  And  when  he  bent  his  figure  in  front 
of  his  mother  to  let  her  pay  the  penalty  on  his 
mustaches,  she  actually  laughed,  —  a  sound  which 
caused  his  heart  to  dance  with  joy.  She  looked  at 
him  with  a  mixture  of  love,  humility,  and  self- 
abnegation  which  made  his  eyes  water  ;  he  longed 
to  take  her  in  his  arms  and  kiss  all  her  fears 
away. 

Now,  it  was  well  on  in  the  afternoon,  and  still 
she  did  not  come  out.  Coffee  had  been  drunk 
as  usual  in  the  arbor,  but  Babbett  had  brought 
in  the  tray.  The  Herr  Pastor  had  been  fetched 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  287 

away  by  the  peasant,  whose  cow  was  not  yet  re- 
covered. He  was  a  poor  man,  and  the  cow  was 
the  special  item  in  his  possession.  The  Frau  Pas- 
tor in  was  rummaging  in  her  linen  closet.  The 
doctor  had  just  determined  to  bespeak  his  mother's 
authority  in  sending  forth  the  obstinate  girl,  when 
he  descried  her  coming  out  of  the  house,  basket 
and  scissors  in  hand.  She  was  going  to  cut  some 
flowers  to  grace  the  evening  meal.  Hurrah !  That 
suited  him  exactly.  The  garden  was  a  good  dis- 
tance from  the  house,  —  one  had  to  cross  the  poul- 
try yard  and  outhouses  first ;  besides,  the  flowering 
laburnum  and  tall  lilac  bushes  sheltered  one  com- 
pletely. Now  he  would  see  and  speak  to  her. 

The  strawberry  bed  was  on  the  further  side  of 
the  flower  garden,  and  she  was  stooping  over  it 
when  he  came  up.  She  looked  so  sweet  in  her 
light  blue  dress,  heightening  the  dazzling  purity  of 
her  complexion,  the  white  neck  beneath  her  coil 
of  black  hair,  his  favorite  spot  of  adoration, 
gleaming  like  marble  in  the  sun.  He  kissed  it  as 
he  came  noiselessly  behind  her,  put  his  hands  to 
her  waist,  and  drew  her  up  to  him.  He  kissed  the 
small,  lovely  ear,  rolling  it  playfully  between  his 
lips,  as  if  he  meant  to  bite  it.  Her  two  hands  he 
drew  up  to  his  breast,  and  held  them  there. 

"  Why  dost  thou  avoid  me  ?  "  questioned  he. 

The  lids  drooped  over  her  eyes,  so  that  the  long 
black  lashes  touched  the  white  of  her  cheeks. 
Her  hands  she  tried  to  withdraw,  but  he  kept 
them  firmly  clasped.  Well  he  knew  the  tremen- 
dous personal  magnetism  that  streamed  from  his 


288  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

touch  to  hers  and  set  her  whole  body  tingling. 
But  her  lips  were  curved  in  a  firm  resolve,  her 
passive  attitude  bespoke  obstinate  resistance. 

"  Will  the  battle  have  to  be  fought  over  again  ?  " 
he  asked,  smiling. 

"  I  shall  do  my  duty,"  she  said  coldly. 

"  Meaning  that  you  will  accept  the  banker  ?  " 

"  I  shall  accept  him,"  she  said. 

He  knew  he  was  cruel,  but  he  felt  himself 
goaded  to  it.  "  Do  you  love  him  ?  " 

Ah,  the  look  she  cast  upon  him,  —  fear,  horror, 
aversion,  disgust,  mingled  with  the  most  piteous 
supplication.  His  heart  cried  out  in  pity,  but  not 
yet  would  he  relent. 

"  This  fair,  sweet  shrine,  which  the  divinities 
might  gladly  worship,  thou  wilt  sell  for  his  base 
gold?" 

"  I  will  sell  it,  so  as  not  to  bring  ruin  upon 
this  house." 

"  And  if  he  caress  thee  ?  " 

"  I  shall  fall  dead  at  his  feet,  or  go  mad  and 
strangle  him." 

"  Hast  thou  no  mercy,  no  pity  for  him  ?  " 

"  None.     He  is  the  baser  of  the  two." 

"  Have  I  not  told  thee  that  the  same  fate  which 
overtakes  thee  overtakes  me  also?" 

"  You  will  live  —  live  to  forget  me  —  to  marry 
some  one  who  will  be  your  equal  —  far  more 
worthy  of  you  than  I  am." 

"  I  have  told  thee  that  at  the  decisive  moment 
I  will  step  forward  and  claim  thee.  Dost  thou 
think  I  will  not  do  it?" 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  289 

"  You  may  do  it.  But  I  shall  give  the  lie  to  all 
you  say,  and  marry  the  other  one  on  the  spot  — 
that  he  may  take  me  away  at  once." 

"  Thou  wilt  have  to  reckon  with  my  father  first. 
When  I  speak  thou  wilt  have  to  own  the  truth. 
He  will  not  accept  the  sacrifice.  Thou  wilt  pre- 
cipitate matters  without  gaining  anything." 

"  But  I  will  not  own  the  truth.  I  will  lie,  —  lie 
so  that  the  fiends  shall  laugh,  and  I  will  laugh 
with  them." 

He  was  silent  a  moment,  holding  her  hot  fevered 
hands  still  against  his  breast. 

"  Geliebte,"  he  inquired,  in  his  rich,  soft  voice, 
which  made  her  clench  her  teeth  in  curbed  ago- 
nies, "  hast  thou  no  regard  for  my  sufferings  ?  Is 
love  of  so  little  worth  to  thee?" 

"  It  is  of  so  much  worth  to  me,"  she  replied,  "  that 
I  shall  die  for  it.  My  life  I  throw  in  the  balance 
that  you  shall  continue  to  live  in  honor  and  fame, 
as  you  are  living  now.  A  little  while  —  and  all 
will  have  forgotten  me.  But  you  —  ah,  how  many 
hopes  and  fears  are  bound  up  in  your  career ! 
Later,  when  grown  wise  in  years  and  renown,  you 
will  look  back  upon  this  as  a  foolish  episode,  and 
bless  me  for  having  remained  steadfast." 

"  Thou  hast  strung  thyself  up  to  so  high  a 
pitch,"  he  observed,  "  that  thou  art  no  more  capa- 
ble of  putting  forth  any  reason  or  judgment  than 
a  patient  under  stress  of  delirium.  Yesterday 
thou  wert  a  dove,  to-day  thou  art  a  vulture,  claw- 
ing thy  own  heart  and  making  carrion  of  mine. 
What  now  passes  in  thy  fevered  brain  thou  wilt 


290  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

never  do.  Mad  people  have  to  be  restrained,  and 
that  thou  surely  wilt  be  lest  thou  dost  eternal 
harm  to  thyself." 

Before  she  could  answer  they  heard  Babbett 
calling,  — 

"  Jette  !  Jette,  where  art  thou  ?  "  She  came 
nearer,  stumbling  over  herself  in  her  haste.  "  Those 
inside  there,"  she  said  with  a  significant  smirk, 
jerking  her  thumb  towards  the  house,  "  want  thee. 
He  for  whom  thou  waitest  has  come." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

THE  three  years  which  Herr  Goldman  had  con- 
sented to  wait  for  the  consummation  of  his  happi- 
ness had  not  in  any  wise  improved  him.  Neither 
his  temper  nor  his  habits  were  calculated  to  hide 
the  passing  of  old  Father  Time.  The  gold  rings 
in  his  prominent  eyes  looked  as  if  they  had  been 
sent  to  the  wash  and  found  wanting ;  unsightly 
bags  puffed  themselves  beneath.  The  brittle  red 
hair  was  brushed  most  carefully  towards  the  crown, 
trying  to  conceal  somewhat  its  very  marked  bald- 
ness. His  cheeks  were  distended,  fat,  and  flabby, 
—  of  a  decidedly  unwholesome,  underdone  muffin 
color.  His  inclination  to  corpulency  had  increased 
considerably;  it  was  plainly  to  be  seen  that  the 
waistline  would  soon  be  lost  in  abdominal  propor- 
tions. Always  below  the  medium  height,  this  by 
no  means  increased  the  grace  of  his  appearance. 
He  was  most  faultlessly  and  elegantly  dressed,  in 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  291 

the  most  perfect  taste,  which  proclaimed  at  once 
the  cultivated  man  of  the  world.  He  had  plunged 
at  once  into  all  necessary  details,  and  had  settled 
all  preliminaries  with  the  Herr  Pastor  before  Jette 
made  her  tardy  appearance.  Indeed,  there  had 
been  very  little  left  to  settle.  During  the  occa- 
sional visits  the  Herr  Pastor  had  consented  he 
should  pay  to  the  parsonage  matters  had  been  dis- 
cussed between  them  often  enough,  "  always  pro- 
vided," as  the  Herr  Pastor  had  stipulated,  "  that 
the  girl  herself  should  consent ! "  And  of  this 
consent  he  was  so  sure  that  he  looked  upon  it  as  a 
mere  matter  of  form,  —  a  mere  preliminary  which 
should  bind  her  to  him  with  the  putting  on  of  the 
betrothal  ring,  speedily  to  be  followed  by  the 
wedding. 

Much  to  his  chagrin,  he  had  to  curb  his  eager- 
ness to  greet  Jette  until  the  evening  meal  was 
ready  to  be  placed  upon  the  table.  A  hundred 
pretenses  she  found  to  help  Babbett  in  making 
the  necessary  additions  for  the  unexpected  guest, 
though  the  old  woman  protested  most  vigorously, 
declaring  it  a  scandal  and  a  shame  to  treat  a  wait- 
ing suitor  so.  It  was  just  before  the  big  lamp  on 
the  centre  table  was  lit.  The  full  moon  had  risen 
and  was  flooding  the  dusky  gloaming  with  its  sil- 
very radiance.  Close  behind  her  came  the  doctor, 
and  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  sight  of  the  stal- 
wart magnificent  form  following  close  upon  her 
heels  somewhat  subdued  Herr  Goldman's  raptur- 
ous greeting,  causing  his  jealousy  to  flare  up  sky- 
high. 


292  A   TENT  OF  GRACE 

44  My  son,"  introduced  the  Frau  Pastorin.  Like 
the  clang  of  joy  bells  one  could  distinctly  trace  the 
pride  and  joy  in  the  tones  of  her  voice.  "  Nay, 
dearest,  why  dost  thou  raise  the  protecting  shade 
from  thy  eyes  ?  Surely  thou  'It  inflame  them  and 
retard  their  perfect  recovery." 

44  Only  for  a  moment,  mamma.  Out  of  proper 
respect  to  our  guest.  Give  thyself  no  uneasiness. 
In  a  day  or  two  the  obnoxious  thing  can  be  dis- 
carded for  good." 

For  a  moment  the  two  men  looked  at  each 
other,  the  doctor's  grandeur  of  height  and  perfect 
symmetry  of  form  making  a  mockery  of  the  other's 
squat,  uneven  proportions.  To  the  jealous  fury 
of  the  banker  it  seemed  like  a  menace  which  the 
lightning-like  glance  of  the  brown  eyes  challenged. 
The  green  shade  dropped  over  the  eyes  again. 

44  Herr  Dr.  von  Feldern,"  said  Herr  Goldman, 
with  perfect  politeness.  The  Frau  Pastorin  started 
and  convulsively  pressed  the  hand  of  her  husband. 
It  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  heard  her  son 
addressed  by  his  new  dignity.  She  could  hardly 
contain  her  rapture. 

Oh,  yes.  Herr  Goldman  was  well  informed 
about  everything  concerning  the  Herr  Doctor. 
Who  did  not  know  of  his  fame,  so  wonderfully 
and  quickly  acquired  ?  A  magnificent  career 
awaited  him.  The  Herr  Pastor  and  the  Frau 
Pastorin  were  indeed  to  be  congratulated  upon 
the  possession  of  such  a  son.  Very  seldom  —  in 
fact  hardly  ever  —  had  it  been  known  that  a 
young  man  had  made  his  way  so  rapidly.  It 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  293 

was  to  be  presumed  that  the  Herr  Doctor  could 
not  be  spared  long  from  his  extensive  practice, 
that  Vienna  would  insist  upon  his  speedy  return. 

"  I  have  but  just  arrived,"  observed  the  doctor 
cheerfully.  "  You  see  me  quite  in  the  hands  of  my 
dear  ones,  who,  I  very  much  fear,  will  not  allow 
me  to  depart  again." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin,  passing 
her  hand  over  his  curls  with  the  peculiarly  linger- 
ing fond  mother  touch.  "  Of  exile  there  has  been 

O 

enough ;  sad  and  sore  the  time  has  been.  There 
will  be  110  returning  to  Vienna,  Herr  Goldman. 
Our  beloved  Rhinegau  will  be  large  enough  field 
for  him." 

Herr  Goldman  glanced  uneasily  towards  Jette. 
She  was  passing  in  and  out,  helping  to  arrange 
the  dishes  on  the  table.  Was  she  never  coming 
to  speak  to  him  ?  Hardly  had  she  greeted  him. 
While  he  was  talking  to  that  great  hulking,  over- 
bearing blonde  ass  she  had  quietly  slipped  out 
again.  But  patience  !  here  was  the  evening  meal : 
she  would  sit  beside  him  ;  he  would  press  her  hand 
as  a  mute  sign  of  his  love  and  adoration.  Come 
what  would  afterwards  he  would  speak  to  her,  and 
retire  for  the  night  happy,  an  engaged  man. 

But  she  did  not  sit  beside  him.  In  the  most 
amiable,  the  most  nonchalant  manner  possible  the 
doctor  occupied  that  place.  Wholly  unconscious 
of  the  vindictive  anathemas  simmering  against 
him  in  the  banker's  breast,  he  rattled  on  in  the 
gayest,  the  most  unconcerned  tones.  He  drew  the 
furious  man  beside  him  into  discussions  about  life 


294  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

in  Vienna,  challenged  comparisons,  exchanged  re- 
miniscences, related  anecdotes  of  prominent  people 
they  both  knew,  and  with  that  irresistible  smile 
of  his  administered  such  stinging  doses  of  torture 
that  the  other  could  have  flown  at  his  throat 
and  strangled  him.  And  all  the  time  he  knew 
that  seated  right  opposite  to  them  she  could  not 
avoid  looking  at  them  both.  He  was  not  con- 
ceited, but  like  every  one  with  a  particle  of  self- 
esteem,  he  had  a  proper  opinion  of  himself.  And 
he  smiled  as  he  looked  down  at  the  man  beside 
him  —  with  the  insolence  of  triumph. 

That  evening  they  sat  longer  at  table  than  ever 
before.  It  seemed  as  if  their  talk  never  would 
end.  Herr  Goldman  had  traveled  more  exten- 
sively than  the  doctor,  —  he  was  at  home  in  every 
large  city  of  the  world.  Once  drawn  into  discus- 
sion and  reminiscence  he,  too,  talked  as  he  could, 
graphically  and  well.  It  was  quite  late  when 
finally  they  rose  from  table.  Fritz  brought  out  a 
case  of  cigars,  whose  brand  made  Herr  Gold- 
man open  his  eyes. 

"  You  are  a  good  judge,  I  see,"  he  remarked, 
selecting  one  very  deliberately  ;  "  it  is  seldom  one 
has  the  chance  to  enjoy  a  whiff  at  one  like  these." 

"  A  present,"  he  said  carelessly ;  "  I  am  not  very 
prodigal  with  them,  even  to  myself,  but  on  an 
occasion  like  this  one  can  afford  to  be  generous." 

His  teeth  glistened  between  the  sweep  of  his 
mustache  as  he  smiled  amiably  and  assisted  the 
banker  to  a  light. 

"  Fetch  thy  guitar,  Jettchen,"  requested  the  pas- 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  295 

tor,  as  with  his  long  lean  legs  stretched  out  before 
him  he  rapturously  inhaled  the  aroma  of  his  cigar. 
"  Sing  me  my  favorite  Tyrolean  song,  which  thou 
hast  denied  me  so  long.  Since  Fritz  came  home 
thou  hast  given  up  thy  habit  of  lulling  me  to  sleep 
with  it  every  night." 

To  the  doctor's  delight  and  surprise  she  com- 
plied. His  dear,  blessed  old  papa !  As  if  some 
strange  collusion  prompted  him  to  play  thus  per- 
fectly into  the  son's  hands. 

As  for  her  —  she  would  sing,  she  would  dance, 
she  would  play,  she  would  do  anything  to  keep 
Herr  Goldman  from  presuming  upon  those  little 
familiarities  to  which,  under  the  circumstances,  he 
doubtless  felt  himself  entitled.  She  knew  that  the 
doctor  would  not  hesitate  to  take  him  by  the  scruff 
of  the  neck  and  shake  the  life  out  of  him.  Ex- 
.planations  would  be  precipitated  —  at  any  cost  this 
must  be  avoided. 

"Ich  muss  von  meinen  Bergen  scheiden,"  she 
sung,  that  most  pathetic,  most  heart-stirring 
farewell  of  the  Alpine  maid  to  her  beloved  moun- 
tains. With  the  broad  blue  sash  of  the  guitar 
crossing  her  breast,  matching  in  color  the  eyes 
raised  above,  with  fevered  red  burning  in  her 
cheeks,  the  glossy  black  of  her  hair  against  the 
white  of  her  brow  and  neck,  she  made  a  most 
enchanting  picture.  The  anguish  of  parting  was 
in  her  voice,  and  she  rang  out  the  yodel  with 
an  unrestrained  fervor  which  was  the  despairing 
cry  of  her  overladen  heart.  Herr  Goldman  hung 
upon  her  lips  entranced.  Heavens !  how  she  had 


296  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

improved.  If  his  mother  heard  her,  —  the  whole 
world  should  hear  her,  people  surely  would  go 
mad  over  her. 

"  Let  who  will,"  said  the  pastor  when  she  had 
finished,  "  cater  to  his  artificial  opera  airs.  Give 
me  the  Lied,  —  our  dear  Volkslied,  in  which  the 
throb  of  the  nation's  heart  is  heard.  Never  do  I 
love  my  fatherland  so  passionately,  or  appreciate 
the  pain  or  suffering  of  exile  so  acutely,  as  when  I 
hear  one  of  these  simple  songs." 

"  Sing  me  my  favorite,"  begged  the  Frau  Pas- 
torin,  "  '  Heart,  my  heart,  why  so  sad  ? '  It  never 
fails  to  bring  the  tears  to  my  eyes,  and  makes  me 
feel  sorry  for  those  far  away  from  home.  When 
thou  wert  in  Vienna,  dear  Fritz,  I  could  not  bear 
to  hear  it.  But  now,  with  thee  seated  opposite, 
the  sting  is  removed  and  only  its  pathos  remains." 

She  hesitated  a  moment.  Surely  they  asked  too 
much  of  her.  This  anguished  cry  of  a  homesick 
heart,  —  would  not  her  own  echo  it,  and  she  break 
down  and  lose  her  painfully  acquired  self-control  ? 

"  Hand  me  your  guitar,  Jettchen,"  requested 
the  doctor.  "  Mamma  shall  hear  me  sing  it.  Let 
me  see  if  I  cannot  rival  you." 

She  took  the  broad  ribbon  from  off  her  neck 
and  handed  him  the  instrument.  A  timid  look  of 
gratitude  she  shot  at  him  from  under  her  lowered 
lashes.  Because  of  the  shade  she  could  not  see 
his  eyes.  But  his  mouth  smiled,  and  the  warm 
fingers  meeting  for  a  moment  hers  expressed  a 
world  of  encouragement  and  reassurance.  He 
touched  the  strings,  tuning  one  here,  another  there. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  297 

He  played  the  prelude,  and  by  that  they  knew  that 
his  was  a  master  touch.  Then  his  voice  soared 
forth,  —  that  magnificent,  full,  sonorous,  baritone, 
making  the  heartstrings  of  his  listeners  vibrate  to 
its  exquisite  harmony.  The  tone  picture  they  saw 
before  them :  the  exile's  agonized  longing  for  his 
mountain  home  and  all  it  held  sacred  and  dear, 
the  questioning  despair,  love,  sorrow,  and  grief, 
until  the  last  where  the  joy  of  a  final  resolve  puts 
all  misery  at  rest. 

"  Canst  sing  like  that  —  thou  ?  "  said  his  mother 
when  the  last  lingering  notes  died  away.  "  Nay, 
what  has  come  over  thee?  Never  have  I  heard 
anything  like  it  before." 

He  smiled,  softly  thrumming  the  strings,  "  'T  was 
a  great  consolation  to  me,"  he  said,  "  in  my  busy 
life  in  Vienna.  It  brought  home  and  all  it  held 
dear  to  me  nearer." 

"  Thy  heart  is  in  thy  voice,"  remarked  the  pastor, 
whose  eyes  were  wet ;  "  one  can  see  thou  under- 
standest  the  true  meaning  of  our  people's  Lied." 

The  doctor  played  a  short  prelude.  Then  he 
commenced  the  beautiful  passionate  love  song,  the 
"  Serenade,"  by  Schubert.  Softly  he  began,  sub- 
duing his  powerful  voice  to  the  most  entrancing 
appeal.  The  moon,  shedding  her  beams  right  into 
the  window,  stood  still  for  a  moment  to  listen. 
Surely  the  sly  old  thing  had  heard  appeals  of  the 
kind  ever  since  the  beginning  of  man,  but  never 
one  so  sweet  as  this.  Jette's  soul  writhed  in  agony, 
her  sufferings  were  almost  past  endurance.  Noise- 
lessly she  arose  and  stood  by  the  long  French  win- 
dow, pressing  her  aching  eyes  against  the  glass. 


298  A   TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  Zittere  Holde  nicht,"  sounded  the  sweet  reas- 
suring refrain  in  lingering  accents.  Herr  Gold- 
man stumped  across  the  room  and  joined  her. 

"  Jettchen,"  he  said  in  low,  intense  tones,  "  it 
was  originally  my  intention  to  wait  with  what  I 
have  to  say  until  to-morrow.  But  my  love  over- 
whelms me.  Long  and  patiently  have  I  waited  for 
this  moment  which  is  to  crown  my  life  with  the 
realization  of  my  fondest  hopes.  You  surely  anti- 
cipate what  I  mean  ?  " 

She  bent  her  head.  Not  for  her  life  could  she 
have  spoken. 

"  The  Herr  Pastor  and  the  Frau  Pastorin  have 
given  their  most  gracious  consent.  In  a  month  or 
so  from  now,  God  willing,  I  shall  bear  you  hence 
as  my  beloved,  adored,  idolized  wife.  You  will 
let  me  put  the  betrothal  ring  on  your  finger  now, 
—  here  in  their  presence  ?  " 

Already  he  poised  the  costly  glittering  thing  be- 
tween his  fingers.  Taking  her  hand  he  led  her 
into  their  midst.  The  Herr  Pastor  and  the  Frau 
Pastorin  looked  up  smiling  and  expectant.  The 
doctor  flung  the  guitar  from  him  so  fiercely  that 
the  strings  broke  with  a  dissonant  crash,  and  rose 
to  his  feet. 

"  Herr  Pastor  and  you  most  gracious  Frau  Pas- 
torin," said  the  banker  in  happy  excitement,  "  we 
call  upon  you  both  to  witness  our  solemn  betrothal 
as  my  dear,  dear  beloved  is  now  about  to  give  her 
consent." 

"Well,  Jettchen,"  said  the  Herr  Pastor  with 
kind  encouragement. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  299 

Now  she  looked  up.  Like  a  magnet  the  doc- 
tor's eyes  drew  her  gaze  to  his.  Disdain,  scorn, 
contempt  blended  like  lightning  in  the  might  of 
his  glance.  Back  rushed  the  repressed  blood  in  a 
torrent  to  her  heart.  The  pride  of  the  old  Castil- 
ian  race,  whose  last  representative  she  was,  tore 
the  fever  film  from  her  tortured  brain. 

"  Put  back  the  ring,"  she  said ;  "  I  can  never, 
never  marry  you." 


CHAPTER  XL 

FOR  a  moment  there  was  stillness.  She  had 
withdrawn  her  hand  from  the  banker's  and  held 
both  hers  behind  her.  His  mouth  half  open,  the 
wide,  coarse  nostrils  flapping  like  wings,  he  stood 
as  if  transfixed  to  stone.  The  wide  satin  cap  rib- 
bons hanging  either  side  of  the  Frau  Pastorin's 
breast  stirred  with  her  agitated  breath.  The  doc- 
tor's arms  were  folded  across  his  chest ;  his  lips 
relaxed  their  fierce  tension.  He  came  a  little 
nearer  to  the  girl,  as  if  by  reaching  out  his  arm 
he  could  draw  her  to  him.  The  Herr  Pastor,  stern 
and  erect,  came  forward. 

"What  is  this?"  he  demanded.  "Why  hast 
thou  waited  till  now  to  tell  us  thou  wilt  not  have 
this  man  ?  " 

"  'T  is  an  unheard-of  scandal,"  cried  the  Frau 
Pastorin.  Her  face  was  flaming  red ;  never  had 
her  eyes  flashed  in  such  anger.  "  Surely  the  girl 
knows  not  what  she  says." 


300  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  I  cannot  marry  him,"  she  answered,  "  I  cannot. 
All  these  years  have  I  striven  hard,  cheated  my- 
self, tried  to  believe  as  others  told  me,  but  I  could 
not,  could  not  feel  differently  towards  him.  Cast 
me  from  your  midst,  upbraid  me,  the  worst  that 
you  can  do  to  me  I  deserve.  Nothing  will  seem 
hard,  nothing  after  what  I  have  suffered." 

"  Thou  dear  Heaven !  "  cried  the  Frau  Pastorin, 
exasperated  beyond  control.  "  Spoilt  thou  hast 
been,  indulged  till  thou  art  beyond  all  bounds. 
Thou  suffered !  when  thou  wert  enjoying  thyself 
and  others  were  planning  for  thy  happiness." 

"  Now  she  shall  speak,"  interpolated  the  pastor 
sternly,  "  and  take  thou  heed  not  to  interrupt  her. 
Too  long  has  she  been  muzzled,  it  seems." 

"  Every  one  has  desired  nothing  but  what  was 
good  and  best  for  me,"  said  the  girl,  raising  her 
imploring  eyes  to  his  face.  "  Only  my  own  fool- 
ishness has  been  to  blame.  I  feared  to  hurt  his 
mother,"  she  inclined  her  head  towards  the  banker, 
"  I  feared  to  tell  the  Frau  Pastorin,  I  had  not  the 
courage  to  tell  you.  I  thought  when  every  one 
was  so  much  wiser  than  I  surely  matters  would 
come  round  of  themselves." 

"  What  hast  thou  against  him  ?  "  inquired  the 
pastor. 

"  He  is  all  that  is  good  and  kind  in  himself.  I 
am  sorry,  —  sorry  to  have  brought  this  upon  you, 
—  sorry  that  he  must  hear  the  truth.  I  cannot 
like  him.  He  inspires  me  with  aversion,  —  with 
horror.  More  welcome  would  be  a  reptile's  caress 
than  the  touch  of  his  hand.  He  makes  my  flesh 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  301 

creep ;  my  blood  turns  cold  under  the  look  of  his 

eyes.     From  the  first,  when  I  knew  him,  I  felt 

this,  and  the  years  have  but  added  to  it.      My 

own  cowardice  is  to  blame  that  I  have  not  told  this 

long  ago.     Forgive  me,  —  no  one  ever  asked  me, 

—  all  took  it  for  granted  that  I  ought  to  marry 

him.    If  only  I  had  known  some  one  to  go  to  —  to 

-  to  say  what  I  felt  "  — 

She  could  not  say  any  more.  With  a  cry  like 
that  of  a  hyena  the  banker  flung  himself  before 
her. 

"  You  shall  be  mine  !  "  he  screamed.  "  What 
matters  if  you  hate  me  ?  Only  be  mine,  marry  me. 
Beat  me,  scorn  me,  deride  me.  Tear  me  with  one 
hand,  I  will  kiss  the  other.  Father  on  high  !  If 
any  one  had  told  me  such  love  could  be  rejected  ! 
At  your  feet  will  I  grovel  until  you  no  longer  say 
me  nay.  Only  love  me,  love  me  if  'tis  ever  so 
little,  and  let  me  love  you." 

She  tried  to  free  her  dress  from  his  grasp,  but  he 
retained  fast  hold  of  it  and  kept  her  prisoner  there. 

"  Have  I  waited  all  these  years,"  he  shrieked, 
"  fed  upon  my  own  vitals,  put  a  powerful  restraint 
upon  my  feelings,  fortified  myself  with  heroic 
patience  to  await  the  coming  of  this  hour,  that 
you  should  scorn  me  ?  Have  you  held  me  off  with 
every  device  that  coyness  could  invent,  and  nour- 
ished my  blood  with  fever  dreams,  to  make  a  ma- 
niac of  me  at  last  ?  Relent,"  he  supplicated  ;  "  not 
cruel  art  thou,  but  cast  in  nature's  fairest  mould. 
Mercy  have  thou,  as  I  know  thy  heart  prompts 
thee  to.  Relent ;  be  mine,  be  mine." 


302  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

On  his  knees  he  dragged  himself  after  her  as 
she  tried  to  escape,  still  retaining  hold  of  her 
dress.  He  cried,  he  screamed,  he  tore  his  hair. 

"  I  cannot  live  without  thee,"  he  sobbed  ;  "  the 
fiends  in  hell  would  have  compassion  did  they 
know  what  I  suffer.  Tricked,  jilted,  deceived,"  he 
shrieked,  clutching  his  head,  and  bringing  it  vio- 
lently against  the  floor.  "  Is  it  for  this  I  have 
waited  —  to  be  made  drunk  with  the  weight  of 
your  scorn  at  last  ?  " 

Some  one  opened  the  door  behind  her.  She 
slipped  through  and  it  closed.  The  doctor  placed 
himself  before  it. 


CHAPTER  XLI 

THE  poor  Frau  Pastorin !  It  is  to  be  feared 
that  of  all  she  really  suffered  the  most.  Never 
having  to  endure  a  scene  of  violence,  not  in  her 
wildest  imaginings  dreaming  such  things  could  be, 
she  was  fairly  beside  herself  with  consternation 
to  see  the  well-mannered,  suave  banker  trans- 
formed into  an  unreasoning  animal.  He  raved, 
he  cursed,  he  accused  every  one  present  of  com- 
plicity in  the  shipwrecking  of  his  suit.  It  re- 
quired all  the  doctor's  powerful  strength  to  re- 
strain him  from  battering  in  the  door  and  pursuing 
Jette.  He  vowed  to  kill  her,  to  kill  himself,  to 
kill  everybody.  Foaming  at  the  mouth,  his  eyes 
rolling,  the  long  finger  nails  driven  into  the  flesh, 
his  teeth  clenched,  stumping  the  length  and  breadth 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  303 

of  the  room  in  wildest  frenzy,  like  an  enraged  ani- 
mal in  its  cage,  he  was  enough  to  make  one's  flesh 
creep  —  the  veritable  beast  stripped  bare  of  all 
manhood.  It  was  far  into  the  night  when,  his 
passion  exhausted,  he  burst  into  weeping  and  wail- 
ing, succeeded  by  a  sullen  fury.  He  wanted  to 
get  away  from  the  place,  —  then  and  there,  —  im- 
mediately. Not  one  minute  longer  would  he  tarry, 
—  he  did  not  care  whether  the  postmaster  slept  or 
not,  —  the  rustic  hind  would  be  sufficiently  indem- 
nified for  his  loss  of  rest,  —  an  "  extra  post "  he 
would  have  on  the  spot  though  it  cost  a  king's 
ransom.  He  rammed  his  hat  over  his  eyes,  and 
with  a  vindictive  glare  stalked  forth  into  the  night, 
never  to  be  seen  any  more  within  those  walls 
where  peace  and  harmony  had  ever  walked  hand 
in  hand.  It  was  not  long  before  they  heard  the 
rumbling  of  wheels,  the  tramping  of  the  postilion's 
horses,  which  told  that  all-powerful  gold  had  for 
once  served  the  banker  in  good  stead.  He  was  on 
his  road  home,  and  those  listening  to  the  fainter- 
growing  sounds  of  his  departure  looked  at  each 
other  in  relieved  thankfulness. 

But  now  the  calm,  the  self-contained  Frau  Pas- 
torin  collapsed,  for  the  first  time  within  the  re- 
collection of  anybody,  as  indeed  there  had  never 
before  been  any  need.  Jette,  cowering  on  the 
attic  stairs,  heard  her  hysterical  sobs  and  tearful 
exclamations,  and  quaked  with  remorse  and  terror. 
All  night  she  had  crouched  there,  listening  fear- 
fully to  the  tempest  below.  Ceaselessly  she  re- 
proached herself  —  it  was  all  her  fault  —  never 


304  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

would  she  dare  to  raise  her  eyes  to  any  one  again. 
She  felt  herself  an  interloper,  a  thing  that  would 
have  to  creep  in  and  out,  shunning  people's  glances 
—  she  had  upset  the  whole  household.  And  yet 
through  it  all  there  ran  a  sense  of  freedom,  an 
exaltation,  which  made  her  breathe  without  the 
crushing  sense  that  nearer  and  nearer  her  fate  was 
closing  in  around  her.  Cautiously  she  crept  down 
the  stairs,  and  stumbled  against  the  doctor,  who, 
taking  flying  leaps,  three  at  a  time,  jostled  plump 
against  her.  The  landing  was  dark,  but  he  caught 
hold  of  her,  and  gave  her  a  fervent  kiss. 

"I  want  my  medicine  chest,"  he  said  breath- 
lessly. "  Mamma  is  all  upset  —  no  wonder  —  that 
animal  —  pah !  Art  so  lost  without  thy  shepherd 
hast  to  come  in  search  of  him,  eh  ?  "  He  kissed 
her  till  she  was  breathless.  "  Art  a  famous  girl, 
thou,"  he  exclaimed  exultingly ;  "  hast  the  true 
ring  of  the  steel  in  thy  mettle.  The  courage  to 
tell  the  truth  —  that  is  the  grandest  courage  of 
all ;  and  that  thou  hast  it  thou  hast  abundantly 
proved  but  now.  Art  fashioned  just  after  my 
own  heart.  Hark,  thou  dearest.  Art  no  more 
inclined  for  sleep  than  I  am,  I  see.  Soon  dawn 
will  be  breaking,  the  sun  will  be  up.  Then  wilt 
thou  go  to  feed  thy  doves,  and  I  will  help  thee. 
Thou  dear,  brave,  sweet  one.  Now  I  will  go  to 
soothe  mamma.  A  draught  I  have  here  which 
will  bring  her  round  in  no  time.  She  will  sleep, 
and  awaken  calm  and  refreshed.  No,  no,  thou 
canst  do  nothing  for  her  —  keep  out  of  her  way 
just  now  —  leave  all  to  me.  Now  here  is  my 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  305 

chest.  Up  thou  goest  to  plunge  thyself  in  cold 
water  —  rub  vigorously,  and  see  thou  puttest  on 
other  clothing  —  thou  wilt  feel  like  newborn,  and 
never  miss  the  loss  of  thy  night's  rest." 

He  was  down  the  stairs  again  in  flying  leaps, 
swinging  himself  over  the  balustrades  when  half- 
way down.  Soon  he  appeared,  his  mother  lying 
like  an  infant  in  his  arms,  her  hands  clasped 
around  his  neck,  her  convulsive  sobs  stilled.  The 
Herr  Pastor  followed,  with  a  carefully  shaded 
candle,  so  that  its  flicker  should  not  fall  upon 
Mammachen's  drowsy  eyes.  Babbett  came  close 
behind,  lugging  the  Herr  Doctor's  medicine  chest. 
She  had  110  doubt  that  it  contained  nerves  and 
mustard,  and  all  those  outlandish  things  totally 
unknown  in  a  healthy  household.  Therefore  she 
eyed  it  with  a  great  deal  of  awe,  and  carried  it  as 
gingerly  as  if  she  were  afraid  the  nerves  and 
mustard  might  suddenly  jump  out  and  fasten  them- 
selves upon  her.  A  little  while  longer  —  and  the 
house  was  wrapped  in  profound  repose.  The 
household  would  sleep  late  that  day  and  without 
fear  of  undue  disturbance. 

Now  the  sun  came  forth,  vigorously  dispersing 
the  cold,  gray  dawn.  It  slanted  across  the  face  of 
the  girl,  who  presently  stole  noiselessly  down  the 
stairs.  She  had  done  as  the  doctor  told  her, 
brushed  out  her  hair  till  it  glittered  with  its  own 
sleekness,  and  now  looked  as  fresh  and  as  fair  as 
if  she  had  just  stepped  from  the  embrace  of  the 
young  god  of  day  himself.  She  carefully  shut 
the  kitchen  door,  and  soon  the  welcome  aroma  of 


306  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

freshly  made  coffee  rose  like  incense  to  the  grate- 
ful nostrils  of  the  doctor,  plunging  around  in  his 
tub.  It  was  not  long  before  he  had  a  cup  of 
the  refreshing  beverage  in  his  hand,  while  she 
cut  innumerable  tongue  sandwiches,  for  he  was 
hungry  enough  to  eat  her,  as  he  declared  with 
rapturous  glances  into  the  eyes  in  which  he  saw 
his  heaven.  He  sat  on  Babbett's  immaculate 
kitchen  table,  swinging  his  long  legs,  gulping 
down  the  scalding  hot  coffee,  —  sugarless,  but 
creamed  plentifully,  —  bit  off  immense  pieces  of 
sandwiches,  while  she  sat  beside  him,  quite  close, 
for  the  table  was  not  very  large ;  but  they  did 
not  mind  a  little  crowding,  for  every  bite  ho 
took  she  had  to  take  one,  and  he  held  his  cup  to 
her  lips  and  she  put  hers  in  exactly  the  same  spot 
his  lips  had  touched.  Occasionally  his  droll  re- 
marks made  her  laugh,  when  he  quickly  clapped 
his  hand  over  her  mouth,  so  she  should  not  wake 
the  sleepers,  and  when  she  choked  he  kissed  her 
till  she  was  glad  to  regain  her  breath  again. 

They  went  out  to  feed  the  pigeons.  There  was 
a  bench  in  the  shadow  of  the  poultry  yard,  and 
there  they  presently  sat  down.  A  dove  came  and 
fluttered  down  on  her  shoulder.  She  pursed  up 
her  lips,  and  the  pretty  creature  pecked  at  them. 

"Dost  thou  want  to  make  me  jealous?"  he 
asked  smiling ;  "  is  that  thy  privileged  Giselle  ?  " 

"  Giselle  is  dead,"  she  said ;  "  black  Peter  killed 
her  just  before  you  came,  and  our  Minka  killed 
him.  I  have  no  more  pets  now.  'T  is  too  painful 
to  love  them  and  then  to  lose  them.  Never  did  I 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  307 

see  such  grief  as  her  mate  showed.  For  days  he 
sat  on  the  dovecote,  desolate  and  alone.  A  pretty 
minx  of  a  tumbler  pigeon  preened  her  feathers 
and  made  up  to  him.  But  he  would  have  none  of 
her,  and  when  she  renewed  the  attempt  again  and 
again  he  at  last  flew  away,  and  has  not  come  back 
since.  Oh,  doves  can  scratch  I  can  tell  thee." 

"As  thou  hast  shown,  eh?  Thou  wilt  cause 
me  abundance  of  heartburn,  that  I  foresee.  Thou 
wilt  tantalize  and  plague  me  and  cause  me  no  end 
of  trouble.  One  is  never  sure  of  thee  from  one 
minute  to  the  other.  Thou  wilt  want  to  set  up 
thy  will  against  my  own,  and  it  will  take  all  my 
strength  to  subdue  thee.  Thou  art  angel  one 
moment,  vixen  the  next.  But  such  as  thou  art,  I 
love  thee.  No  other  woman  in  the  world  could 
ever  have  held  me  captive  so  long.  I  would  not 
have  thee  different,  for  always  will  there  be  some- 
thing left  in  thee  to  conquer." 

"Fritz,"  she  asked  hesitatingly,  "thy  father 
and  mother  —  are  they  very  angry  with  me  ?  " 

"  What !  after  the  nature  of  the  beast  revealed 
itself  as  it  did  the  night  before  ?  Never  will  my 
father  be  sufficiently  thankful  for  thy  escape  from 
such  a  man.  Neither  is  this  all.  I  have  told  papa 
some  things  which  here,  in  this  peaceful  seclu- 
sion, he  never  dreamt  of.  I  can  tell  thee  I  heard 
enough  about  the  banker  while  at  the  university  at 
Bonn.  Make  thou  thy  mind  easy.  Many  a  poor 
girl,  whom  he  cajoled  with  his  vile  gold,  hast  thou 
avenged.  There  is  no  man  along  the  Rhine  with 
a  worse  reputation  than  he.  Nemesis  put  a  fine 


308  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

rod  in  pickle  with  which  to  scourge  him  when  she 
selected  thee  for  the  task.  The  only  thing  thou 
art  blamed  for  is  that  thou  didst  not  come  out 
with  the  truth  long  ago.  Never  mind.  Thou 
creditest  me  for  having  put  in  a  good  word  for 
thee?" 

She  looked  at  him  gratefully,  and  he  kissed  the 
dear  eyes  lifted  to  his. 

"Now  thou  shalt  be  happy,"  he  said,  "and 
gladden  our  hearts  with  thy  old-time  sportiveness. 
Papa  is  only  too  glad  to  keep  thee  among  us.  A 
sore  trial  it  would  have  been  to  him  to  miss  the 
ministry  of  thy  hands  to  his  comfort.  Mamma 
may  hold  thee  off  a  little,  but  in  the  end  she  will 
come  round.  Men  look  at  these  things  very  dif- 
ferently from  women.  She  was  so  proud  in  thy 
prospective  greatness.  In  the  end  thou  hast  only 
exchanged  one  form  of  yoke  for  another.  Dost 
think  it  will  sit  very  heavily  on  thee  ?  " 

She  looked  down  thoughtfully.  "There  is  a 
great  task  before  me  yet,  which  does  not  seem  to 
enter  into  thy  reckoning.  If  the  rabbi  gives  not 
his  consent "  — 

"  That  shall  be  seen  to  presently ;  before  I  go  to 
Bonn,  where  I  go  to  establish  myself,  thou  must 
find  out,  and  set  all  doubts  at  rest.  There  must 
be  an  end  to  all  this.  I  shall  take  a  house  —  oh, 
I  know  of  a  dear,  sweet  nest,  a  little  removed 
from  the  general  bustle,  where  thou  and  I  can  be 
happy,  where  the  prying  eyes  of  others  cannot  see. 
There  is  a  garden,  where  thou  canst  have  thy 
flowers  and  lay  out  thy  strawberry  and  asparagus 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  309 

beds.  I  will  build  thee  an  arbor,  over  which  thou 
canst  train  a  vine,  just  like  the  one  we  have  here. 
There,  in  the  summer,  thou  wilt  bring  me  my 
coffee,  and  place  thyself  beside  me  and  put  thy 
arms  around  my  neck,  and  sweeten  my  cup  with 
the  first  sip.  Ah!  dost  not  think  we  shall  be 
happy?" 

He  drew  her  blushing  face  to  his,  and  blissfully 
kissed  her  lips. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  questioned  presently,  "  if  thou 
hadst  not  looked  at  me  would st  thou  have  let  that 
man  put  the  ring  on  thy  finger  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  she  ejaculated  with  passion,  "  mayst  thou 
never  know  the  extent  of  suffering  I  went  through 
the  night  before.  I  wrestled  with  my  inclination 
so  fearfully  my  mind  almost  gave  way.  I  wanted 
to  do  my  duty  —  God  knows  I  was  sincere  enough. 
There  seemed  but  one  way  out  of  this  labyrinth  — 
to  sacrifice  myself.  At  that  moment  my  faculties 
were  numbed ;  I  seemed  to  have  died  and  some 
one  else  to  have  taken  my  place.  Thy  glance 
restored  me  to  myself  ;  what  I  read  there  tore 
the  veil  from  my  eyes.  Thy  love  I  could  have 
surrendered,  but  —  thy  contempt  I  would  not 
have." 

"  Dost  thou  love  me  ?  "  he  whispered.  It  was 
the  motif  of  every  one  of  these  delicious  stolen 
interviews.  He  knew  it  sufficiently  well,  but  like 
an  insatiable  gourmand  he  could  never  get  enough. 
She  put  her  cheek  against  his,  and  murmured 
softly  as  the  cooing  of  a  dove  between  his  lips,' "  I 
love  thee." 


310  A   TENT  OF  GRACE 

Thus  it  always  was  and  always  will  be.  Hope 
unfurls  her  radiant  banner,  and  we  confidently 
follow  as  long  as  it  flutters  in  sight. 


CHAPTER  XLII 

"  THE  owl  has  built  her  nest  in  the  eaves  of  our 
roof,"  announced  Babbett  one  morning  at  break- 
fast. Babbett  had  adopted  a  good  many  of  the 
Rhineland  peasant-folk  superstitions,  and  held  signs 
and  omens  in  religious  awe.  Where  the  owl  built 
her  nest  tradition  had  it  death  was  sure  to  invade 
the  household.  The  Frau  Pastorin,  like  a  stanch 
Pomeranian,  had  a  healthy  contempt  for  these  little 
weaknesses. 

"  Well,"  she  inquired  sarcastically,  "  wouldst 
rather  it  was  the  stork  ? "  The  doctor  laughed, 
and  the  Herr  Pastor,  looking  archly  at  her,  smiled. 
She  had  quite  recovered  her  former  good  humor, 
though  she  was  still  very  distant  and  dignified  with 
Jette.  She  had  kicked  her  good  fortune  like  a  foot- 
ball, she  said,  and  would  surely  live  to  repent  it. 
What  did  she  expect  would  become  of  her  ?  Here 
she  was  in  the  ripe  bloom  of  her  youth  —  the  only 
dower  she  was  possessed  of.  If  she  did  not  marry 
now,  good-by  to  all  prospects  of  a  settlement  in 
life.  Now  she  would  have  to  wait  —  wait  till 
some  poor  man  asked  her;  eventually  she  would 
be  glad  to  marry  any  one.  She  certainly  could 
not  afford  the  luxury  of  becoming  an  old  maid. 
For  that  one  needed  money ;  surely  one  had  to  live. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  311 

The  good  Frau  Pastorin !  She  lamented,  she 
prophesied  all  sorts  of  terrible  things.  She  de- 
clared Jette's  good  looks  would  be  the  undoing  of 
her.  Such  girls,  if  allowed  to  pick  and  choose, 
generally  ended  by  doing  the  worst  for  themselves. 
And  it  was  for  this  she  had  brought  her  up.  It 
was  in  her  blood  —  her  foolish  mother  had  done 
the  same  thing.  She  did  not  want  any  gratitude  — 
Heaven  forbid !  She  only  wanted  the  girl  to  allow 
herself  to  be  guided  a  little  by  those  whose  com- 
mon sense  she  lacked  so  lamentably  herself.  In 
fact  Jette  was  in  disgrace,  and  she  surely  let  her 
feel  it. 

A  week  had  gone  by  since  the  banker's  last  visit 
which  had  resulted  so  disastrously  to  himself.  The 
doctor  had  discarded  his  shade ;  he  declared  his 
eyes  perfectly  cured.  This  went  a  great  way  to 
console  the  Frau  Pastorin,  who  rejoiced  exceed- 
ingly. In  a  few  days  he  would  go  to  Bonn  to 
make  the  necessary  arrangements  for  establishing 
himself.  On  his  return  she  made  up  her  mind  to 
speak  to  him.  Surely  now  he  would  want  a  wife 
to  keep  house  for  him.  Why  did  not  Thekla  come 
back  ?  For  the  last  year  she  had  lived  with  her 
father  in  Athens.  What  interest  was  there  delv- 
ing after  the  antiquities  of  dead  arid  gone  days, 
when  a  brand-new  joy  awaited  one?  Oh,  only 
let  him  wait !  matters  should  be  settled  now  for 
good  and  all. 

It  was  a  cheerful  sunny  morning  when  Jette 
started  for  the  little  town  where  the  synagogue 
was  situated  in  which  she  had  worshiped  since 


312  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

she  came  to  the  parsonage.  Under  the  pretense 
of  buying  a  few  necessities  for  herself  and  the 
household,  she  had  readily  obtained  permission 
from  the  Frau  Pastorin  to  go.  The  doctor  was  to 
leave  in  a  day  or  two,  and  he  had  insisted  upon 
some  certainty  before  doing  so.  He  would  have 
preferred  to  accompany  her,  but  she  vehemently 
disclaimed  against  the  imprudence  of  such  a  step. 
She  knew  the  rabbi,  and  stood  in  great  awe  of  him. 
The  doctor  was  hopeful  and  sanguine,  a  state  of 
mind  she  by  no  means  shared.  He  watched  her 
graceful,  erect  figure  as,  with  the  dancing,  gliding 
step,  so  peculiar  to  her,  she  was  about  to  disap- 
pear round  the  bend  in  the  road.  For  a  minute 
she  stopped,  turned  her  bright  face  towards  him, 
and  blew  him  a  kiss  with  her  arch,  happy  smile. 
Then  she  was  gone,  and  the  sunlight  went  with 
her. 

How  beautiful  she  was  !  Who  would  not  adore 
her,  the  innocent  light-hearted  girl !  What  royal 
dignity  there  was  in  the  poise  of  her  head ;  with 
what  majesty  she  carried  herself  !  There  was  a 
lightness,  an  elegance,  about  her  movements  which 
her  occasional  visits  to  Cologne  had  not  alone  im- 
parted. The  ancient  lineage  from  which  she 
sprung  showed  plainly  in  the  slight  aristocratic 
hauteur  of  her  manner,  mingled  with  the  most 
gracious  cordiality.  She  was  a  treasure  beyond 
compare,  a  pearl  without  price.  There  was  no 
other  like  her,  and  so  the  whole  world  should  own. 
Every  one  would  envy  him  his  good  fortune ;  peo- 
ple should  feel  themselves  honored  by  coming  into 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  313 

contact  with  her.  But  to  very  few  would  he 
accord  the  privilege  —  he  wanted  her  for  himself 
alone,  to  love,  to  idolize,  to  cherish.  Ah,  they  would 
be  happy :  the  angels  in  heaven  should  envy  them. 
Who  talked  about  paradise?  surely  this  world 
was  paradise  enough.  There  were  a  few  difficul- 
ties in  the  way,  of  course  ;  his  manhood  would  be 
worth  very  little  were  he  not  strong  enough  to 
wrestle  with  them.  In  the  end  they  would  be  over- 
come, and  then  —  forward  !  march !  straight  to  the 
goal. 

Thus  mused  the  doctor,  as  with  his  book  upside 
down  he  sat  under  the  old  sycamore-tree  awaiting 
her  return.  He  was  happy  in  anticipating  his 
future  happiness.  Who  shall  grudge  it  him  ?  Is 
not  the  greatest  good  in  life  gained  this  way  ?  The 
birds  sang,  the  pure  bracing  air  sent  renewed  blood 
with  a  joyous  tingle  through  the  veins.  Nature 
smiled,  and  her  gracious  mood  was  infectious. 
The  dreamy  smile  on  the  lover's  lips  had  a  portion 
of  heaven  in  it.  He  crossed  his  arms  across  his 
chest  and  closed  his  eyes.  But  he  still  dreamed 
on.  * 

It  was  not  long  before  Minka  came  along.  The 
great  tabby  came  in  search  of  her  young  mistress. 
She  prowled  around  the  doctor,  then  stretched  her 
full  length  at  his  feet.  So  the  two  watched  and 
waited.  The  morning  wore  on.  Soon  the  mid-day 
meal  would  be  ready,  though  to-day  it  had  been 
set  an  hour  later.  The  doctor  had  said  he  was 
going  to  make  some  botanical  researches,  and  could 
not  be  back  till  then. 


314  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

The  great  cat  rose  and  rubbed  herself  against 
the  doctor's  legs.  She  purred  vigorously,  and  by 
that  he  knew  some  one  was  coming.  His  dreamy 
content  vanished,  he  started  to  his  feet.  He  had 
hardly  done  so  when  Jette  was  upon  him. 

But  not  as  she  had  left  him.  The  happy,  joyous 
expression  had  fled  from  her  face,  her  eyes  were 
set  and  glassy  in  their  despair.  His  heart  fell. 
He  knew  before  she  spoke  what  had  happened. 
Then  a  great  anger  rose  within  him.  Let  priests 
rave  as  they  might  —  interpret  the  Divine  will 
according  to  their  own  perverted  intelligence  — 
nothing  should  come  between  these  two  whom  plainly 
God  had  intended  for  each  other.  He  would  have 
drawn  her  to  him ;  but  she  repulsed  him.  He 
knew  why  she  did  it,  and  it  increased  his  wrath 
to  fever  heat. 

"  Sit  thee  down,"  he  said,  "  and  rest  thyself. 
Thou  hast  walked  too  fast,  dearest.  See,  thou  art 
all  overheated." 

"  'T  was  not  half  fast  enough  for  the  fever  of 
my  mind,"  she  exclaimed ;  "  my  feet  were  like 
wings,  though  my  heart  is  turned  to  stone  in  my 
bosom.  Fritz,  dear  Fritz !  it  can  never,  never 
be." 

She  wrung  her  hands,  as  if  the  fingers  would 
crack.  Her  hot  dry  eyes  looked  at  him  in  the 
most  heartrending  despair.  He  set  his  teeth, 
and  the  frown  she  knew  so  well  —  the  resolute, 
obstinate  frown,  when  he  set  his  determined 
will  against  that  of  another  —  appeared  upon  his 
face. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  315 

"  Let  me  see  if  my  love  will  not  prove  stronger 
than  the  wiles  of  priestcraft.  Out  with  it.  What 
did  he  say?" 

"Just  what  I  foreboded  —  what  I  told  thee 
from  the  first.  And  more.  Oh !  if  thou  could st 
have  heard  him.  It  seems  —  it  seems  that  this  un- 
fortunate story  —  thou  knowest  about  the  banker 
—  has  reached  him,  and  he  put  his  own  construc- 
tion upon  it,  long  before  I  spoke.  Then  his  anger 
knew  no  bounds.  He  said  I  was  a  renegade,  an 
apostate  —  I  dare  not  repeat  to  thee  all.  Oh," 
she  cried  with  an  impassioned  gesture,  "  the  bare 
recollection  withers  me." 

"  Fling  off  this  yoke,  wash  thyself  clean  of  these 
ragged  remnants  of  a  medieval  age.  See  how 
gloriously  the  sun  shines  !  Would  God  have  made 
it  so,  that  a  race  of  slaves  should  flourish  in  its 
benignant  rays  ?  " 

"  Thy  father  taught  me  to  respect  my  religion  ; 
more  scrupulous  was  he  in  exacting  its  require- 
ments than  if  I  had  grown  up  in  the  midst  of  its 
adherents.  I  reverence,  I  worship  it.  Wouldst 
thou  have  me  fling  his  own  teachings  in  his  face  ? 
Then,  indeed,  the  world  were  turned  upside  down, 
and  I  lost  in  it." 

"  Thou  art  enlightened  enough  to  see  as  I  do. 
If  there  is  aught  in  thy  religion  which  cannot 
reconcile  itself  with  thy  love,  then  indeed  the  spirit 
of  the  Almighty  is  not  in  it.  Above  all  things 
did  he  want  that  we  should  love  one  another.  If 
there  is  crime  in  that,  be  the  consequences  on  my 
head  —  not  on  thine.  Be  thyself  —  strong  in  the 


316  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

might  of  thy  own  heart.  Wilt  thoti  not  find  com- 
pensation in  my  love  for  thee  ?  " 

"Dearest,  best  beloved,"  she  sobbed,  "  I  cannot 
drag  thee  down  to  ruin.  The  world  will  scorn 
thee  for  marrying  the  banned  Jewess.  I  will  be 
thy  handmaid  —  thy  slave  —  do  with  me  as  thou 
wilt  —  but  I  cannot,  cannot  marry  thee." 

So  this  whole  miserable  business  would  have  to 
be  gone  over  again.  He  clenched  his  hands,  his 
brow  darkened. 

"  I  will  not  have  thee  mar  thy  fair  cheeks  with 
these  bitter  drops,"  he  said  fiercely ;  "  they  sear  the 
heart  and  leave  it  scarred.  Heavy  indeed  is  the 
task  thou  settest  me  —  the  stanchest  heart  might 
well  break  under  it.  A  way  there  must  be  found 
out  of  this  —  the  quickest  dispatch  cannot  be 
quick  enough  to  end  this  wear  and  tear  of  sus- 
pense. I  thought  to  take  a  light  heart  with  me, 
that  hope  might  guide  my  endeavors.  The  day 
after  to-morrow  I  depart,  and  fear  not  but  while 
I  am  gone  there  shall  be  found  a  final  settlement 
to  this  question.  Now  sit  thee  down  and  compose 
thyself.  I  care  not  how  soon  my  parents  will 
know  of  this  —  indeed  they  shall  be  approached 
very  soon  —  but  mamma  is  not  quite  strong  yet ; 
she  would  be  upset  all  over  again." 

He  kissed  the  tears  from  her  face,  and  breathing 
upon  his  handkerchief,  gently  dabbed  her  eyes 
with  it  to  eradicate  the  telltale  traces.  But  his 
brow  was  moody  and  stern  —  he  did  not  sinile 
again 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  317 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

"  THERE  is  sickness  at  the  Wildhof,"  said  the 
Frau  Pastorin.  "  Hans's  wife  is  down  with  gastric 
fever  —  I  must  go  and  see  her.  Pack  thou  a 
basket  with  wine  and  jellies,  Babbett.  Right 
after  dinner  we  will  start." 

"  May  I  not  go  with  you  ? "  asked  Jette 
timidly. 

"  No,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin  curtly ;  "  I  pre- 
fer Babbett  to  come  along.  Thou  canst  prepare 
the  evening  meal,  so  it  will  be  ready  when  we  come 
back." 

Babbett  grumbled  at  the  long  walk,  for  her 
poor  old  legs  were  not  as  supple  as  they  used  to 
be,  and  she  would  very  much  rather  Jette  had 
gone.  But  Jette  was  not  out  of  disgrace  yet,  and 
the  Frau  Pastorin  lost  no  opportunity  in  letting 
her  feel  it.  So  she  stayed  behind,  and  watched 
them  sadly  as  they  went  down  the  hill  towards  the 
Wildhof.  The  doctor  had  gone,  and  the  void  lay 
heavy  on  her  heart.  He  was  the  sum  and  sub- 
stance of  her  happiness ;  that  she  knew  now. 
Without  his  strong  arm  to  guide  her  she  would 
drop  by  the  wayside.  What  terrible  destiny  was 
that,  which  had  flung  her  in  his  very  path,  just  to 
show  her  how  perfect  life  could  be,  and  then  to 
mock  her  by  withholding  the  cup,  placed  so  tempt- 
ingly to  her  lips.  Dark  and  dreary  the  vista  of 
her  days  stretched,  like  an  arid  waste  before  her, 
with  never  an  oasis  in  sight.  But  he,  he  would 


318  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

not  submit  to  it.  Her  heart  quaked  as  she  ac- 
knowledged to  herself  that  against  his  strong 
aggressive  will  she  could  not  hold  out  forever ; 
either  she  would  perish  or  —  further  she  dared 
not  think. 

She  gave  the  Herr  Pastor  his  coffee  when  he 
woke  up  from  his  nap,  and  brought  him  his  long- 
stemmed  Fatherland  pipe.  The  large  china  bowl 
she  cleaned  out  carefully,  and  placed  the  pretty 
chamois  tobacco-bag  she  had  embroidered  for  him 
within  his  easy  reach.  Everything  she  did  was 
gracious  and  sweet,  "  just  like  herself,"  the  Herr 
Pastor  thought.  He  took  a  fond  pleasure  in 
watching  her  hands  twinkle  like  white  asters  in 
and  out  among  the  china  cups.  When  she  in- 
clined her  head  a  little  to  one  side,  looking  up  at 
him  with  her  eyes  of  pansy  blue,  and  asked  the  cus- 
tomary question  "  More  cream  ?  "  he  beamed  upon 
her  so  brightly  that  the  tears  rose  to  her  eyes.  It 
was  as  if  the  doctor  looked  at  her,  the  same  keen, 
penetrating,  but  velvety  soft  brown  eyes  —  those 
dear  eyes  she  loved  so  well.  Dear,  good  old  man  I 
never  had  he  had  any  but  kind,  cheerful  words  for 
her ;  his  admonitions  had  been  benedictions.  And 
she  was  deceiving  him  —  sorrow  and  tribulation 
was  she  about  to  bring  to  his  whitening  hairs. 
What  would  he  say?  Would  he  not  curse  the 
day  he  had  carried  her  in  his  arms  to  his  home  — 
that  home  she  had  already  profaned  with  her 
deceit  ? 

It  was  already  quite  dark  when  at  length  the 
Frau  Pastorin  and  Babbett  were  descried  in  the 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  319 

distance,  wearily  trudging  along.  Jette  flew  to 
meet  them,  took  the  empty  basket  from  Babbett, 
and  offered  her  sturdy  young  shoulder  to  the  Frau 
Pastorin  to  lean  upon.  The  latter  ungraciously 
availed  herself  of  it  —  she  seemed  thoroughly  tired 
out.  But  as  soon  as  the  Herr  Pastor  came  up, 
whose  step  was  not  quite  as  agile  as  the  young 
girl's,  she  took  her  hand  off  her  shoulder  and 
slipped  it  through  his  arm. 

"  Those  at  the  Wildhof  should  not  have  allowed 
thee  to  walk  back,"  he  said ;  "  't  was  far  too  much 
for  thee  to  trudge  both  ways." 

"There  is  work  enough  at  the  Wildhof,"  she 
replied,  "  without  my  adding  to  it.  The  mistress 
is  far  worse  than  the  nature  of  the  illness  would 
warrant.  Two  of  the  children  are  down  since  last 
night.  Hans  is  in  terror  the  illness  might  spread 
throughout  the  household.  I  did  what  I  could  for 
them,  but  that  was  not  much.  'T  would  be  best 
if  he  got  one  of  the  Sisters  from  the  convent  at 
Neustadt  to  properly  care  for  them.  He  promised 
he  would  do  it,  if  they  did  not  mend  soon." 

"  I  must  go  over  to-morrow,"  observed  the  pas- 
tor anxiously  ;  "  indeed  I  had  no  idea  the  sickness 
would  spread.  Of  course  they  must  have  proper 
care :  without  it  they  cannot  get  better.  Hans  is 
not  a  poor  man ;  he  can  very  well  afford  to  have 
his  family  properly  looked  after.  I  will  rub  it 
into  him,  never  fear." 

"  May  I  go  ?  "  begged  Jette.  "  I  know  the  ways 
of  the  Wildhof  well ;  I  could  be  of  some  use  until 
somebody  comes." 


320  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  Thou  'It  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  the 
Herr  Pastor  with  decision  ;  "  the  young  take  infec- 
tion far  more  easily  than  older  people.  I  only 
hope  that  mamma  and  our  good  Babbett  have 
taken  no  harm." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  the  Frau  Pastorin  ;  "  never 
since  my  infant  days  have  I  had  an  illness,  neither 
has  Babbett  as  far  as  I  know.  What  sayest  thou, 
Babbett ;  we  are  far  too  well  seasoned  to  begin  in 
our  old  age,  eh  ?  " 

She  laughed,  and  sank  gratefully  into  her  large 
easy-chair  when  they  reached  the  sitting-room. 
Jette  would  have  removed  her  bonnet  and  silk 
scarf,  but  she  repulsed  her,  and  let  the  Herr  Pastor 
do  it. 

"  Now  I  want  nothing  but  something  to  drink," 
she  said,  "  and  then  I  will  go  to  bed.  Thou  canst 
look  after  things  to-night,  Henriette ;  let  Babbett 
rest  herself.  Thou  dear  Heaven  !  A  few  years 
since  I  could  have  walked  twice  the  distance  and 
gone  to  a  ball  afterwards.  Surely  I  must  be  grow- 
ing old." 

Slowly  she  went  up  the  stairs,  affectionately 
leaning  upon  her  husband.  Five,  six  days  went 
by  —  then  a  special  messenger  was  hastily  dis- 
patched to  Bonn.  The  Frau  Pastorin  and  Bab- 
bett had  taken  the  fever. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  321 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

Now  it  was  that  Jette  in  some  measure  repaid 
the  love  and  care  that  had  been  lavished  upon  her. 
Alert,  vigilant,  ever  on  the  watch,  her  noiseless 
footfall  went  to  and  fro  between  the  sick-beds. 
It  was  not  long  before  the  pastor  was  stricken. 
The  doctor  pronounced  it  an  especially  virulent 
form  of  typhoid,  and  inveighed  against  the  stupid- 
ity of  the  local  physician,  who,  under  the  guise  of 
gastric  fever,  had  allowed  the  sickness  to  spread. 
Soon  over  the  whole  village  the  dark  angel  of 
death  stalked  abroad.  Day  and  night  the  tall 
erect  form  of  the  doctor  could  be  seen  going  from 
one  house  to  another.  People  kissed  his  hands 
and  dropped  many  a  tear  upon  them,  for  he  car- 
ried consolation  and  comfort  wherever  he  went. 
All  the  time  he  could  snatch  from  his  own  beloved 
ones  he  devoted  to  others,  for  he  knew  he  left 
them  in  good  hands.  For  three  weeks,  night  and 
day,  neither  he  nor  the  girl  who  watched  at  home 
had  time  to  change  their  clothing.  And  with  it 
all,  she  was  concerned  for  his  comfort,  always  had 
the  nourishment  ready  with  which  it  was  necessary 
to  keep  up  his  strength.  His  efforts  to  get  some 
sort  of  help  for  her  proved  unavailing.  Scarcely 
a  household  was  there  that  was  not  stricken,  and 
the  Sisters  at  the  convent  had  their  hands  full 
among  the  poor.  Every  morning  and  night  he 
anxiously  scanned  his  faithful  nurse,  but  she  had 
the  whole  capital  of  her  young  untried  strength 


322  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

to  draw  upon,  and  she  did  it  unsparingly.  The 
healthy,  vigorous  blood  in  her  veins  withstood  the 
fierce  onslaught  of  the  dread  disease,  and  as  if 
daunted  by  her  fearless  courage  it  reluctantly 
passed  her  by.  Reluctantly,  it  seems ;  for  one 
morning,  when  all  were  out  of  danger  and  on  a 
fair  road  to  recovery,  the  doctor,  after  drawing 
her  into  the  light  and  anxiously  looking  at  her  as 
usual,  peremptorily  ordered  her  off  to  bed. 

"  Go  thou,"  he  said,  "  this  instant.  Sleep ;  do 
not  be  in  haste  to  rise.  Strip  off  thy  clothing  and 
instantly  to  bed.  Sleep  the  whole  day.  I  will 
take  thy  place  and  not  stir  hence  until  thou  comest 
back." 

But  she  demurred.  "  Thou  art  in  worse  need 
of  rest  than  I,"  she  said;  "go  thou  first.  To- 
morrow "  — 

"  Wilt  thou  do  as  I  tell  thee  ?  "  he  commanded. 
"  What  will  become  of  our  dear  ones  if  thou  also 
succumbest?  What  will  become  of  me  with  the 
additional  burden  of  thee  flung  upon  my  hands  ?  " 

This  convinced  her,  and  she  went.  Faint  and 
dizzy  she  felt,  her  throat  was  parched  and  hot. 
She  stopped  for  a  moment  on  the  landing  and 
looked  out  upon  the  Frau  Pastorin's  flower-garden. 
Desolate  and  neglected  it  looked,  the  trim,  neatly 
kept  beds  overrun  with  rank  weeds.  Scarcely  a 
flower  could  be  seen,  and  those  which  did  rear  a 
drooping  head  looked  miserable  and  forlorn.  This 
sight  she  could  not  bear.  Swiftly,  with  her  noise- 
less footfall,  she  ran  down  the  stairs,  opened  the 
kitchen  door,  and  slipped  out.  The  sun  was  hot, 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  323 

though  it  was  already  September.  She  snatched 
the  kerchief  from  her  shoulders,  flung  it  over  her 
head,  and  commenced  to  work  as  if  for  a  wager. 
She  never  heeded  how  the  time  went,  but  with  the 
heat  and  the  haste  the  perspiration  streamed  down 
her  body,  drenching  every  particle  of  her  cloth- 
ing as  if  she  were  dipped  in  the  brook.  And  as 
soon  as  one  bed  was  cleared  she  fetched  water 
from  the  pump  and  sprinkled  her  beloved  rescued, 
first  gently,  then  generously,  until  they  laughed  in 
the  sun,  invigorated  and  refreshed.  Her  haste 
was  so  great  that  her  breath  came  in  quick  gasps, 
and  ever  faster  she  worked  until  the  afternoon  sun 
looked  in  at  the  west  window.  Then  she  staggered 
to  her  feet,  —  her  limbs  were  stiff  from  crouching 
down  so  long,  but  the  work  was  done.  Proudly, 
as  never  victorious  general  surveyed  a  vanquished 
battlefield,  did  she  look  down  at  the  heaps  of  up- 
rooted weeds  at  her  feet,  at  the  fair  smiling  garden, 
and  she  laughed  with  content.  Then  she  remem- 
bered the  doctor,  —  what  would  he  say  if  he  found 
out  how  she  had  obeyed  him  ?  Hot,  perspiring, 
begrimed,  she  yet  felt  happy;  the  lassitude  which 
made  her  limbs  feel  like  lead  had  given  way  to  a 
springy  elasticity,  her  throat  felt  dusty,  but  110 
longer  parched.  She  would  go  and  rub  herself 
well  down,  make  herself  clean  and  sweet  with 
much  needed  fresh  clothing,  and  above  all  eat 
something,  for  she  felt  an  appetite  as  ferocious  as 
the  traditional  plough-boy's.  Upstairs  on  the  land- 
ing she  came  face  to  face  with  the  doctor. 

"  Father  in  heaven  !  "  he  ejaculated,  and  could 


324  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

say  no  more.  He  stared  at  her,  —  her  grimy,  per- 
spiring face,  her  disheveled  hair.  "What  hast 
thou  done?  "  he  said. 

She  drew  him  to  the  window,  and  pointed  to  the 
garden.  A  low,  happy  laugh  came  from  her  lips. 

"  Does  it  not  look  beautiful  ?  Now  thy  mother's 
eyes  will  not  be  offended  when  she  sits  up  and 
looks  out  of  the  window.  Dost  see  the  heap  of 
weeds  ?  I  wanted  to  cart  them  away,  but  I  feared 
it  would  take  too  long.  I  am  so  hungry  I  could 
gnaw  the  banisters." 

"  Hast  been  down  there  all  day  ?  "  he  asked, 
"and  hast  got  thyself  in  this  state  from  overwork? 
Thou  hast  not  a  dry  thread  on  thee.  Hasten, 
hasten,  all  thou  canst  to  put  dry  clothing  on  thee. 
If  thou  art  not  down  again  very  soon  I  will  come 
up  to  thee." 

But  he  smiled,  and  there  was  a  look  of  ineffable 
happiness  on  his  face  when  afterwards  he  said  to 
her,  "  'T  was  the  wisest  thing  thou  couldst  have 
done.  The  fever  was  about  to  grip  thee,  but  the 
plentiful  perspiration  carried  the  poison  away  from 
thee.  Thank  God  for-  the  lucky  impulse.  But  no 
more  must  thou  disobey  me.  Matters  may  not 
turn  out  so  luckily  next  time." 


CHAPTER  XLV 

THE  Herr  Pastor  was  now  quite  convalescent, 
and  Babbett  commenced  to  go  a  little  about  the 
house  again.  It  was  Jette's  task  to  nourish  the 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  325 

fever-drained  veins  with  all  sorts  of  strengthening 
dainties,  which  had  to  be  doled  out  very  carefully. 
The  Frau  Pastorin's  recovery  was  not  so  very 
rapid,  as  her  craving  for  food  was  insatiable,  and 
in  spite  of  the  utmost  vigilance  she  often  contrived 
to  abstract  little  portions  from  Babbett's  or  the 
Herr  Pastor's  plate,  which  considerably  retarded 
her  recovery.  The  doctor  enjoined  upon  Jette 
the  absolute  necessity  of  carrying  the  key  to  the 
pantry  and  the  meat-safe  continually  about  her 
person,  as  a  relapse  into  her  former  condition 
might  prove  fatal  to  his  mother.  He  implored 
her  to  restrain  herself  for  a  little,  just  a  little 
while  longer,  until  it  was  safe  to  indulge  in  a  gen- 
erous diet  again.  The  gentle  old  pastor  and  poor 
old  Babbett  were  tractable  enough.  The  former 
was  well  aware  that  the  chief  danger  of  a  typhoid- 
recovered  patient  lay  in  overeating.  And  as  for 
Babbett,  she  looked  upon  the  doctor  as  an  inspired 
being,  whose  word  was  no  more  to  be  doubted 
than  that  of  the  gospel  itself.  But  the  Frau  Pas- 
torin  was  as  irritable  and  irrational  a  patient  as 
ever  tried  the  patience  of  doctor  and  nurse.  To 
her  son  she  listened  in  rebellious  silence,  but  all 
the  vials  of  her  wrath  she  emptied  upon  Jette. 
She  called  her  a  deceitful,  double-dealing,  under- 
handed traitress,  who  aimed  at  taking  the  upper 
hand  in  everything.  What,  was  she  not  mistress 
in  her  own  house  !  Immediately,  this  instant,  let 
the  keys  be  given  up  to  her.  She  demanded  to 
see  Babbett,  and  when  the  old  woman  hobbled  up, 
commanded  her  to  take  charge  of  the  pantry  as 


326  A   TENT  OF  GRACE 

usual,  and  bring  her  mistress  something,  anything, 
no  matter  what,  to  eat.  When  the  maid  declared 
it  was  against  the  Herr  Doctor's  orders,  she  be- 
came almost  ferocious  in  being  balked  in  her  desire 
for  food.  She  cried,  she  implored,  she  upbraided 
Jette  for  wanting  to  starve  her,  so  that  she  could 
become  mistress  of  the  parsonage.  It  was  very 
hard  to  remain  steadfast  under  these  trying  cir- 
cumstances, especially  as  she  had  to  battle  alone, 
the  doctor  having  been  obliged  to  attend  a  very 
important  consultation  in  Bonn.  She  herself  had 
urged  him  to  go.  The  two  other  convalescents 
gave  her  no  trouble,  and  as  for  his  mother,  she 
felt  herself  strong  enough  to  bear  her  reproaches, 
providing  she  made  fair  progress  towards  recovery. 
The  little  sleep  Jette  could  indulge  in  at  night 
was  always  deep  and  sound,  as  her  duties  were 
very  trying  and  harassing.  She  still  occupied  the 
couch  in  the  Frau  Pastorin's  room.  Till  the 
doctor's  return  she  would  not  leave  her  alone  at 
night.  The  large,  old-fashioned  mahogany  bed- 
stead, with  its  fantastic  carving,  and  piled  high 
with  the  swelling  feather  bed,  stood  in  the  middle 
of  the  airy,  well  ventilated  room.  On  a  little  table 
near  by  a  rushlight  burnt  dimly,  shrouding  the 
corners  in  ghostly  gloom.  That  the  keys  of  the 
pantry  and  storeroom  should  be  in  safe  keeping 
both  day  and  night,  Jette  wore  them  fastened  to  a 
ribbon  around  her  neck.  One  night  she  thought 
she  felt  a  fumbling  at  her  nightgown,  but  as  it  was 
only  the  drowsy  feeling  of  half-consciousness,  she 
still  slept  on.  Of  a  sudden  she  sat  up  and  lis- 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  327 

tened.  She  looked  towards  the  bed.  The  swelling 
down  cover  was  just  as  she  had  arranged  it  around 
the  invalid,  before  retiring  herself.  Minka  came 
with  tail  erect  and  tiptoed  towards  the  door. 
With  a  rush  Jette  flung  off  the  bedclothes.  The 
intelligent  animal  had  never  once  left  the  sick- 
room, and  whenever  Jette  had  been  obliged  to 
leave  it  for  a  moment,  she  had  always  scratched  at 
the  door  and  mewed  as  soon  as  any  of  the  invalids 
stirred.  Now  it  was  slightly  open  —  she  leaped 
towards  the  bed  —  it  was  empty.  Her  hand  went 
up  to  her  neck  —  the  ribbon  was  there,  but  the 
keys  were  gone. 

The  girl  seized  the  light  and  bounded  down  the 
stairs.  The  kitchen  door  was  wide  open,  but  the 
door  of  the  pantry  was  shut.  She  tried  the  handle 
—  it  was  locked.  Through  the  chinks  streamed 
the  faint  flicker  of  a  candle  —  low  murmurings 
mixed  with  laughter  came  from  within. 

"  Open,"  she  said  ;  "  if  you  believe  there  is  a 
God  above  you,  open.  You  shall  have  all  you 
want  —  only  open  for  the  sake  of  your  dear  ones." 

"  Aha,"  laughed  the  Frau  Pastorin  ;  "  art  over- 
ready,  now  I  have  outwitted  thee.  Certainly  I  will 
open,  —  in  my  own  good  time.  If  thou  couldst  only 
see  how  I  am  feasting.  Art  a  generous  provider, 
thou.  Aha,  aha !  not  until,  like  the  vampire,  I 
have  glutted  and  glutted  again,  will  I  come  forth, 
though  the  night  wind  blows  chilly,  and  I  was  in 
such  haste  to  get  down  I  would  not  stop  to  throw 
anything  over  me." 

The  girl  flung  herself  against  the  door.     It  was 


328  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

stout  and  durable,  and  would  not  yield.  She 
dared  not  rouse  the  rest  of  the  household  :  in  the 
chill  night  air  they  would  get  their  deaths.  By 
the  time  she  summoned  help  from  without  the 
mischief  would  be  done  —  as  probably  it  already 
was  now.  Again  and  again  she  hurled  herself 
against  the  door ;  her  shoulder  bled,  her  body  was 
bruised  from  head  to  foot.  She  begged,  she  prayed, 
she  implored. 

"  Alas,"  she  said,  "  have  you  no  regard  for 
your  son  ?  Think  of  the  terrible  work  you  are 
preparing  for  him  anew.  Now  all  will  have  to  be 
fought  over  again,  worse,  far  worse,  than  before. 
If  you  want  to  live,"  she  cried  in  anguish,  "  open 
the  door.  You  have  flung  yourself  into  your  grave, 
and  you  do  not  know  it." 

"  Not  because  thou  biddest  me  will  I  open," 
said  the  Frau  Pastorin,  "  but  because  I  am  glutted 
full." 

She  turned  the  key  and  threw  back  the  door. 
There  she  stood  in  her  long  chemise  and  night- 
jacket.  It  had  been  necessary  to  shave  off  her 
plentiful  fair  hair,  and  she  looked  grotesque  and 
horrible  in  the  extreme,  with  her  frilled  nightcap 
askew  on  her  bare  skull.  She  shivered  so  her 
teeth  rattled  in  her  head.  But  she  looked  at  the 
girl  in  mingled  triumph  and  gratified  malice. 

"  That  was  a  royal  meal,"  she  said ;  "  now  thou 
canst  do  what  thou  likest.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  satis- 
fied my  appetite  for  all  time  to  come." 

Jette's  sobs  were  so  heartrending  she  could 
hardly  hurry  the  unfortunate  woman  up  the  stairs. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  329 

The  doctor  had  left  ample  directions  with  her  in 
case  of  anything  unforeseen  happening.  But  any- 
thing like  this  had  of  course  never  entered  into 
his  calculation.  Hurriedly  and  swiftly  the  girl 
did  what  her  own  good  sense  and  the  means  at 
hand  prompted  her  to  do.  Then  she  flung  a  warm 
wadded  gown  over  herself,  thrust  her  bare  feet  into 
slippers,  locked  the  door  from  the  outside,  and  sped 
down  the  village  street  to  rouse  the  postmaster. 
A  special  mounted  messenger  was  to  start  for 
Bonn  immediately,  without  once  drawing  rein  until 
he  had  put  the  note  she  now  hastily  scribbled  into 
Herr  Dr.  von  Feldern's  own  hand.  Then  she  flew 
back  to  the  house  and  up  to  the  sick-room.  The 
Frau  Pastorin  lay  exactly  as  she  had  left  her. 
Only  now  she  was  burning  hot,  and  her  tongue 
heavy  with  the  mutterings  of  delirium. 

Late  the  following  night  an  "  extra  post,"  the 
postilion's  horses  covered  with  foam,  dashed  up  to 
the  parsonage  door.  The  doctor  came  not  alone ; 

he  brought  Professor  von  B ,  the  most  noted 

medical  expert  along  the  Rhine  and  lecturer  at  the 
Bonn  University,  with  him.  They  immediately 
ascended  to  the  sick-room.  One  glance  they  gave 
at  the  patient,  then  their  eyes  met.  The  same 
look  was  in  both.  The  Frau  Pastorin  was  past 
all  help :  no  skill  on  earth  could  save  her. 

More  as  a  matter  of  form  and  in  deference  to 
his  distinguished  colleague,  the  eminent  professor 
examined  the  patient,  looked  at  the  medicines, 
asked  some  questions  as  to  what  brought  on  this 
dangerous  relapse,  looked  professionally  important, 


330  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

and  gravely  retired  with  the  doctor  into  the  adjoin- 
ing room,  where  they  conferred  long  in  low,  hushed 
tones.  Then  they  went  downstairs  together,  the 
eminent  professor  stepped  into  the  waiting  post- 
chaise,  sympathetically  pressed  his  distinguished 
colleague's  hand,  and  turned  his  face  homeward, 
leaving  sorrow  and  grief  behind  him. 

The  news  that  the  Frau  Pastorin  was  hardly 
likely  to  survive  the  night  had  to  be  broken  to  the 
Herr  Pastor.  There  was  no  one  but  the  son  to  do 
it.  When  the  father  looked  upon  his  ashen  face 
and  trembling  lips,  there  was  no  need  of  telling. 
The  fiat  had  gone  forth :  the  loving,  lovable,  cher- 
ished companion  who  had  sweetened  life's  journey 
for  him  for  the  last  twenty-eight  years  was  about 
to  leave  him  solitary  and  alone.  He  bowed  his 
whitened  head,  but  not  quite  yet  in  submission. 
The  recent  severe  illness  had  left  him  weak. 

He  knelt  beside  the  bed,  there  where  the  candle's 
faint  light  lit  up  the  beloved  face  in  the  strongest 
relief.  The  son  sat  at  the  other  side,  holding  the 
dear,  dear  hand  which  had  ever  lovingly  caressed 
him,  watching  the  flickering  pulse,  his  ear  anxiously 
strained  to  catch  her  breathing.  Babbett  knelt  at 
the  foot  of  the  bed,  and  incessantly  prayed  under 
her  breath.  Jette,  her  face  rigid  in  despair,  leaned 
against  the  head  of  the  couch,  her  fingers  mechan- 
ically interlacing  each  other.  She  was  in  an  agony 
of  remorse  and  self-reproach  —  yet  she  was  per- 
fectly blameless  for  what  had  happened.  She  had 
never  witnessed  a  death-bed  —  she  trembled  with 
awe  as  nearer  and  nearer  approached  the  Great 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  331 

Unknown.  Minka  crouched  at  the  feet  of  her 
dying  mistress  and  would  not  be  driven  away. 
Her  great  eyes  gleamed,  her  fur  stood  on  end. 

All  night  long  they  watched.  Towards  morn- 
ing the  Frati  Pastorin,  who  had  lain  all  the  time 
in  a  stupor,  suddenly  spoke. 

"  My  poor  Jette,"  she  said,  "  thou  canst  not  toil 
up  the  mountain  alone.  Give  me  thy  hand,  I  will 
help  thee." 

Her  voice  was  perfectly  strong,  but  it  had  a 
strange  sound,  as  if  spoken  in  the  far  distance. 
Babbett  gave  a  terrified  start  and  looked  towards 
the  girl. 

"  She  is  calling  thee,"  she  said  in  a  low,  trem- 
bling whisper.  "  The  end  of  the  woe  is  not  yet." 

Jette  was  so  intensely  moved  she  hardly  could 
stand.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  the  dying 
woman  called  her  by  the  name  she  was  generally 
known  by.  It  was  startling,  just  as  her  spirit 
hovered  already  on  the  border-land !  Whether  it 
similarly  affected  the  rest  in  that  grief-stricken 
hour  is  hard  to  tell.  But  the  doctor  stretched'  out 
his  hand  and  clasped  her  hand ;  and  so  she  stood 
beside  him  till  the  end. 

When  the  first  faint  gray  of  dawn  streaked  the 
darkened  sky,  it  came.  A  bright  sunbeam,  just 
darting  into  life,  caught  up  her  spirit  and  winged 
it  up  to  her  God. 


332  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 


CHAPTEE  XL VI 

THE  same  cause  which  had  resulted  in  the  Frau 
Pastorin's  death  kept  the  fever  raging  in  the  vil- 
lage. The  convalescent  patients  were  imprudent, 
or  their  attendants  did  not  restrain  them  suffi- 
ciently in  their  craving  for  food.  There  were  con- 
tinual relapses,  which  almost  always  ended  fatally. 
It  was  felt  at  the  parsonage  that,  unless  matters 
were  taken  hold  of  with  a  strong  hand,  this  awful 
state  of  affairs  might  be  prolonged  indefinitely. 
The  white-haired  pastor,  leaning  on  his  staff,  went 
forth  to  exhort,  to  admonish,  to  comfort  his  peo- 
ple. No  consideration  for  himself  deterred  him. 
The  beloved  partner  of  his  life  was  gone ;  his 
own  sun  had  set.  But  what  remained  of  vitality 
and  strength  he  was  glad  to  expend  in  the  wel- 
fare of  others.  It  was  a  welcome  opportunity  to 
smother  his  own  grief.  The  doctor  sacrificed  his 
own  interests  at  Bonn  in  his  determined  efforts  to 
stamp  out  the  dread  disease  in  his  native  place. 
Only  one  there  was  for  whose  safety  he  trembled. 
But  she  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  life.  She  went 
from  one  fever-stricken  house  to  another,  indefat- 
igable in  her  exhaustless  young  strength  to  sec- 
ond his  efforts.  Long  years  after,  when  the  his- 
tory of  her  life  had  passed  into  a  reminiscence, 
hoary-headed  grandfathers  told  the  story  of  her 
angelic  devotion  to  the  little  prattlers  on  their 
knees,  ever  in  whispers,  throwing  many  an  awe- 
struck glance  behind  them,  as,  indeed,  they  had 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  333 

good  reason  to  do.  And  so  by  the  grace  of  God, 
who  surely  had  imbued  these  three  earnest  souls 
with  a  portion  of  His  own  divine  spirit,  the  mena- 
cing spectre,  stalking  abroad,  was  finally  exorcised 
and  laid. 

Lieschen,  sweet  little  Lieschen,  was  one  of  the 
last  to  be  stricken.  The  ugly,  useless  lump  of 
flesh  calling  itself  her  mother  was  beside  herself 
with  terror.  Strangely  enough,  sloth  and  sloven 
though  she  was,  the  fever  till  now  had  passed  her 
household  by.  Now  she  trembled  with  terror  for 
her  own  life,  and  could  not  be  induced  to  go  near 
the  child.  It  was  Jette  who  hung  over  the  little 
crib,  kept  the  covering  over  the  restless  limbs,  and 
did  grim  battle  with  the  fell  destroyer,  hovering 
for  many  days  dangerously  near.  The  great  hulk- 
ing lout  of  a  father  sat  always  at  the  other  side  of 
the  bed,  his  dry,  grief-stricken  eyes  fastened  upon 
the  sufferer's  face.  He  was  as  grateful  as  a  dog  if 
allowed  to  do  her  the  least  service ;  his  lumbering 
step  was  hushed,  the  touch  of  his  clumsy  hand  as 
gentle  as  that  of  love.  Never  devotee  watched  the 
lips  of  his  oracle  as  eagerly  as  Lieschen's  father 
those  of  the  doctor.  He  came  often,  for  between 
himself  and  the  devoted  nurse  there  was  a  fixed 
determination  to  save  the  life  of  the  sweet  darling, 
provided  human  skill  could  do  it.  Everybody  pre- 
dicted that  now  surely  the  child  would  die.  And 
as  on  so  many  former,  though  far  less  perilous  oc- 
casions, the  little  one  put  the  discomfited  prophets 
to  rout  by  pulling  through  gloriously.  Well,  they 
said,  it  was  surely  unheard  of.  Now,  indeed,  a 


334  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

tragic  end  was  in  store  for  her.  It  would  have 
been  better  had  she  peaceably  gone  then. 

When  the  child  was  quite  well  and  out  of 
danger,  Gret  came  back.  She  made  a  great  out- 
cry about  her  poor  blessed  darling,  volubly  took 
charge  of  her  herself,  and  with  a  great  deal  of 
effrontery  and  impudent  brag,  claimed  the  credit 
of  her  recovery.  Doctor  and  nurse  smiled  quietly 
at  each  other,  and  gave  all  further  necessary  direc- 
tions to  the  father.  Between  his  long  anxious 
watch  and  the  uproar  of  his  wife's  return,  he 
was  too  bewildered  to  upbraid  her.  However,  they 
could  depend  upon  his  dog-like  devotion  to  pre- 
vent harm  to  his  recovered  daughter. 

Therefore  as  from  chaos  order  is  evolved,  so 
matters  fell  into  their  usual  routine  again.  With 
the  old  year  the  fever  fled  and  was  heard  of  no 
more.  In  some  houses  there  was  mourning,  in 
others  rejoicing.  'Tis  the  unalterable  trend  of 
fate,  and  will  be  so  to  the  last.  At  the  parsonage 
a  great  quiet  reigned.  The  poignancy  of  the  first 
grief  had  been  swallowed  up  in  the  anxiety  for  the 
common  weal ;  now  that  this  was  ended,  lassitude 
weighed  down  the  spirits  of  its  inmates.  The  void 
in  their  hearts  was  in  keeping  with  that  in  the 
house.  With  trembling  lips  the  Herr  Pastor  looked 
at  the  empty  chair  beside  his  own.  Sometimes 
he  would  pass  his  hand  over  the  arms,  stretching 
themselves  into  empty  space,  with  a  loving,  linger- 
ing touch,  as  if  she  were  there,  and  smiled  back  at 
him  with  her  clear,  truthful  eyes.  Babbett  slunk 
about  with  lagging  steps.  The  mistress  whom  she 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  335 

had  romped  with  in  childhood,  accompanied  to  the 
altar,  and  left  home  to  serve,  lay  at  rest  in  the 
little  churchyard  over  yonder,  where  the  hill  dipped 
gently  towards  the  horizon.  The  faithful  old  peas- 
ant woman  could  not  rally  from  the  shock.  Her 
strength  would  not  come  back.  Sadly  she  went 
about  the  house,  glad  that  younger,  more  vigorous 
hands  relieved  her  of  most  of  its  duties. 

The  doctor  went  back  to  his  busy  life  at  Bonn. 
Often  he  wrote  to  the  lonely  white-haired  father 
at  home,  whose  sole  prop  and  comfort  he  now  was. 
As  often  as  he  could  he  came.  Hurried,  flying- 
visits  they  necessarily  were,  but  upon  the  loved 
ones  at  home  they  acted  like  an  exhilarating  tonic. 
The  life  and  stirring  buoyancy  of  the  outer  world 
he  brought  with  him ;  his  manner,  though  still  sub- 
dued, inspired  them  with  hope  and  courage.  The 
dreary  winter  passed,  and  a  most  glorious  spring, 
with  floods  of  sunshine  and  the  happy  song  of 
birds,  rejoiced  sorrowing  hearts  once  more.  Dear 
mother  Nature  kissed  the  brow  of  her  sorrowing 
children,  and  chased  away  what  there  was  of  grief 
and  troubled  thought  with  her  loving  maternal 
touch.  Now  one  could  live  out  of  doors  again; 
field,  orchard,  and  garden  resounded  to  the  merry 
crunch  of  the  plough,  and  the  cheerful  tingle  of  the 
cow-bell  was  heard  once  more.  The  Herr  Pastor 
armed  himself  with  spade  and  shovel,  and  stole 
forth  to  the  grave  of  his  dear  one,  and  made  of  it 
a  bed  of  glorious  fragrance.  Nowhere  did  roses, 
mignonette,  and  violets  bloom  in  more  luxurious 
sweetness.  Jette,  seeing  him  thus  occupied,  let 


336  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

him  alone.  He  was  jealous  of  the  least  interfer- 
ence; no  one  should  touch  anything  on  that  be- 
loved resting-place  but  himself.  "No  one,"  he 
declared.  "  But  when  I  lie  beside  her  and  share 
her  last  long  sleep,  then  thou  mayest  come  and 
plant  a  rosebush  on  my  grave.  I  shall  know  thy 
footfall  and  rejoice  that  it  is  thy  hands  which  tend 
me  as  lovingly  in  death  as  they  have  done  in  life. 
Surely  a  kind  fate  brought  thee  to  my  door,  that 
thou  mightest  be  the  comfort  of  my  old  age. 
What  now  should  I  do  without  thee  ?  " 

The  tears  were  in  her  eyes  as  she  took  the  staff 
from  his  weary  hands  and  knelt  down  to  unbutton 
his  gaiters.  Formerly  he  would  not  allow  her  to 
do  it,  but  insisted  she  should  call  Babbett. 

" Babbett  is  old,"  she  protested;  "her  back  is 
stiff  and  her  hands  tremble.  Grief-stricken  and 
work-worn  she  is,  and  now  she  shall  rest.  What 
comes  hard  to  her  is  most  loving  servitude  to  me. 
Let  me  have  the  privilege,  and  say  no  more  about 
it." 

"  How  like  the  dear  mamma  thou  art,"  he  re- 
marked, smiling.  "  In  all  thy  manners  and  ways 
dost  thou  remind  me  of  her.  Most  peremptory  in 
her  loving  solicitude,  she  was  always  careful  for 
the  comfort  of  others,  herself  a  delight  to  the  eye, 
with  a  gift  to  impart,  with  a  touch  here  and  a 
touch  there,  creating  the  order  and  neatness  which 
is  the  soul  of  a  household  and  brings  harmony  to 
the  weary  mind  and  rest  to  the  tired  limbs." 

He  took  his  coffee  from  her  hand,  and  gulped  it 
slowly  with  dreamy  contentment. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  337 

"  Everything,"  he  said,  "  is  as  it  always  was, 
—  everything.  Only  she  is  gone." 

So  it  was  all  the  time.  Never  could  he  forget 
her.  Not  once  was  she  ever  absent  from  his  mind. 

"  Thou  art  treading  exactly  in  her  footsteps," 
he  continued.  "  It  would  rejoice  her  to  see  how 
good  and  useful  thou  hast  become.  But  thou  must 
not  do  overmuch.  Of  late  I  have  fancied  thou 
art  not  as  light-hearted  as  thou  hast  a  right  to  be. 
Thy  cheek  is  not  as  blooming  as  at  thy  age  it 
should  be.  Be  merry,  my  child.  Sing,  laugh,  as 
is  thy  birthright.  'T  was  always  music  in  my 
ears,  and  like  the  praise  of  the  lark  't  will  be  a 
welcome  sound  now.  The  roses  bloom  for  thee 
now,  and  thou  must  haste  and  pluck  them  before 
they  fade." 

But  it  was  not  grief  for  the  death  of  the  Frau 
Pastorin  alone  which  kept  Jette  quiet  and  sub- 
dued. Despair  lay  heavy  on  her  heart.  The  fu- 
ture held  no  more  brightness  for  her  ;  she  seemed 
to  be  groping  about  in  the  dark,  without  any  pro- 
spect of  reaching  the  light.  The  end  of  the  sum- 
mer had  come ;  September,  with  its  fulfillment  of 
golden  promise,  was  at  the  door.  A  few  weeks 
would  see  the  end  of  the  first  year  of  mourning. 
During  all  this  time  the  doctor  had  not  spoken  one 
word  of  love  to  her,  yet  his  eyes,  hanging  upon  her 
every  movement  with  a  lover's  rapture,  told  her 
plainly  enough  that  his  heart  was  hers,  unaltera- 
bly and  forever. 

At  the  end  of  the  month  he  came  on  one  of  his 
short  flying  visits.  Dr.  von  Feldern  was  a  very 


338  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

busy  man  now,  with  a  large,  growing  practice  which 
the  reputation  preceding  him  had  very  materially 
assisted  to  build  up.  Besides  this,  people  liked 
him  exceedingly ;  which  was  not  to  be  wondered 
at,  as  the  first  requisite  of  a  physician  is  plenty  of 
personal  magnetism,  a  manner  thoroughly  sure  of 
its  subject,  and  these  Dr.  von  Feldern  possessed 
in  a  very  marked  degree.  Then  he  was  so  full  of 
pulsing,  buoyant  life ;  there  was  a  grandeur  in  his 
superabundant  vitality  and  strength,  so  that  the 
first  thought  of  a  patient,  no  matter  how  depressed 
with  illness,  on  seeing  him  was,  "  Surely  in  the 
presence  of  so  much  life  I  cannot  die."  The  clasp 
of  his  hand  on  a  patient's  wrist  sent  a  stream  of 
renewed  vitality  through  his  perished  veins,  com- 
forting him  with  the  assurance  that  he  would  re- 
cover, and  this,  no  one  will  deny,  is  a  first  and 
very  important  step  towards  convalescence. 

The  doctor  had  the  faculty  of  inspiring  every 
one  with  complete  confidence  in  himself.  Argu- 
ments, however  plausibly  built  up  beforehand,  fell 
to  pieces  before  his  vigorous,  aggressive  onslaught. 
One  glance  of  his  keen  eye  demolished  more  men- 
tal calculations  than  one  could  build  up  in  a  year. 
Against  his  strength  and  sound  common  sense  there 
was  no  appeal.  What  the  mind  yet  cherished  of 
rebellion,  the  heart  was  unable  to  support.  His 
irresistible  charm  of  manner,  his  bright,  joyous 
spirit,  fascinated  and  subdued  all. 

Jette  often  thought  sadly  how  enviable  indeed 
her  lot  would  be  did  no  impediment  stand  in  the 
way  to  unite  her  life  with  his.  The  world  over, 


A   TENT  OF  GRACE  339 

there  were  very  few  men  like  him  —  in  her  esti- 
mation none.  Like  a  giant,  he  towered  high 
above  a  puny  race,  great  alike  in  his  strength  and 
his  humility.  Not  a  bit  was  he  vain  or  conceited, 
a  child  was  not  more  perfect  in  its  simplicity. 
The  adulation  showered  upon  him  he  took  as  a 
matter  of  course,  never  caring  whence  it  came  so 
long  as  he  was  successful  in  what  he  undertook  to 
do.  With  military  precision  he  marched  to  the 
post  of  duty,  allowing  no  difficulties  to  stand  in 
the  way.  There  was  something  to  be  done — and 
he  did  it. 

On  a  balmy,  soft  September  morning,  when  sum- 
mer joys  still  lingered  in  the  air,  he  strolled  out 
into  the  garden,  which  had  been  his  mother's,  to 
seek  her.  Most  religiously  was  it  kept  in  order ; 
the  rosebushes  glowed  in  luxurious  splendor,  the 
rosemary  and  jasmine  she  had  so  loved  were 
trained  high  against  the  south  paling.  Every- 
thing she  had  ever  touched  or  cared  for  was  most 
assiduously  cherished,  in  pious  memory.  From 
early  morning  to  sundown,  the  girl  busied  herself 
in  keeping  everything  exactly  as  the  inmates  of 
the  parsonage  were  accustomed  to  from  their  earli- 
est recollections.  He  came  upon  her  where  she 
stood  close  to  the  bed  of  pansies,  where  every 
variety  grew  in  fragrant  profusion. 

"  Stiefrnu'tterchen,"  he  said,  breaking  one  of  the 
velvety  darkest.  He  held  it  up  to  her  eyes,  but 
she  dropped  them  with  a  vivid  blush. 

"  Just  as  if  Herr  von  Czechy  had  said  it,"  she 
laughed. 


340  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  Herr  von  Czechy,  indeed !  what  has  he  to  do 
with  thine  eyes  ?  They  belong  to  me.  Whoever 
else  makes  comparisons  commits  high  treason,  and 
that  they  shall  find  quickly  enough." 

"  Thou  didst  not  always  think  so,"  she  remarked 
slyly.  "  I  might  pass  my  days  in  banishment  at 
the  Wildhof  yet  hadst  thou  not  accidentally  "  — 

He  caught  her  round  the  neck  and  smothered 
the  saucy  mouth  with  kisses.  Indeed,  continually 
he  kissed,  and  kissed  again,  until  forced  to  stop 
for  sheer  want  of  breath. 

"  There,"  he  exclaimed,  "  now  have  I  broken  my 
long  fast  at  last.  Oh,  thou  dear,  sweet  angelic 
one,  thou  !  And  that  thou  mayest  further  forbear 
to  say  one  single  word  on  this  tabooed  subject, 
know  whenever  thou  doest  so  the  same  punishment 
awaits  thee." 

She  pouted  so  adorably  that  again  he  would 
have  kissed  her.  But  she  quickly  placed  her 
hand  over  his  mouth,  which  he  kept  there,  patting 
the  finger  tips  between  his  lips  and  playfully  bit- 
ing them. 

"  I  will  give  thee  something  better  to  chew  than 
these,"  she  said.  She  stooped  over  the  strawberry 
bed,  pulling  him  down  with  her.  There  among 
the  fading  leaves,  bare  now  of  all  fruit,  reposed 
two  gigantic  berries,  glistening  in  their  tempting 
lusciousness. 

"  Immense !  "  he  said  with  emphasis.  He  care- 
fully detached  them,  placed  one  between  his  lips, 
and  stooped  towards  her  to  take  it.  She  stood  on 
tiptoe,  taking  one  half,  leaving  him  the  other  half. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  341 

"  Greedy  thou,"  he  said,  "  thou  tookest  nearly 
all.  Hardly  did  I  have  a  taste." 

"  That  is  because  thou  gavest  me  the  largest 
portion."  She  put  the  remaining  berry  between 
her  lips,  while  he  bent  his  stately  head,  taking  in 
one  comprehensive  kiss  both  the  alluring  baits  so 
temptingly  held  out  to  him. 

"  Now  thou  canst  complain  no  more,"  she  ob- 
served, "  for  surely  I  have  made  up  to  thee. 
Scarcely  anything  but  the  stalk  remained  in  my 
month.  Tis  odd,  though,  I  should  have  discovered 
them,  — just  as  if  they  hid  themselves  there  pur- 
posely for  thee  and  me." 

"And  we  gathered  them,"  he  replied  with  a 
look  full  of  smiling  bliss,  "  and  shared  them  be- 
tween us,  as  indeed  everything  from  now  on  should 
be  shared  between  thee  and  me." 

He  took  her  hand  and  drew  off  the  small  black 
circlet  she  still  wore  on  her  finger.  "  Now,"  he 
said,  "  thou  shalt  yield  this  to  me.  Many  a  time 
have  I  felt  jealous  in  seeing  thee  wear  it.  Were 
it  not  that  I  knew  thou  didst  so  in  all  innocence  of 
feeling,  I  should  have  taken  it  from  thee  long  ago." 

"  The  ring  is  very  dear  to  me,  both  for  the 
sake  of  him  who  gave  it  and  the  dear  memories 
it  contains.  To  no  one  else  in  the  world  would  I 
have  yielded  it.  Now  thou  must  wear  it,  and 
never,  never  part  with  it." 

She  placed  it  on  the  little  finger  of  his  left 
hand,  which  it  exactly  fitted.  Odd  and  striking 
it  looked  there.  She  passed  her  hand  caressingly 
over  it  and  kissed  it  once  or  twice. 


342  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  Now  it  is  hallowed,"  he  said,  "  and  as  such 
shall  never  come  into  contact  with  anything  pro- 
fane. See  now  what  I  have  for  thee." 

He  pressed  the  spring  of  a  little  morocco  case. 
Inside  lay  a  plain  gold  band,  with  a  beautiful 
large  pearl,  set  boldly  in  the  middle.  From  its 
satin-lined  bed  it  glistened  at  her  like  a  big  tear, 
trembling  as  if  about  to  fall.  She  drew  in  her 
breath  and  looked  at  him  in  alternate  surprise  and 
dismay. 

"  For  me  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Certainly  for  thee.  Dost  think  in  all  the 
world  there  lives  one  for  whom  I  would  buy  gew- 
gaws? 'T  is  the  sacred  symbol  of  that  which 
united  our  hearts  long  ago,  to  be  replaced  by  one 
which  shall  unite  us  in  all  eternity." 

He  put  it  upon  her  finger,  took  her  in  his  arms, 
and  kissed  her. 

"  It  cannot  be,"  she  answered.  She  drew  the 
ring  from  her  finger,  fastened  it  on  her  satin  waist 
ribbon,  and  put  it  around  her  neck. 

"  Canst  thou  wound  me  thus  ?  "  he  asked  in 
stern  reproach. 

"  Thus  will  I  wear  it,  hidden  close  to  my  heart. 
Dearest  beloved  one  !  Better  were  it  for  thee  to 
forget  me,  and  choose  some  one  who  is  better 
suited  to  thee." 

"  Have  done  with  this,"  he  ejaculated  with  fierce 
scorn.  "  Thou  knowest  not  how  childish  is  thy 
talk.  Now  once  for  all  shalt  thou  decide,  —  either 
thou  lovest  me,  or  thou  dost  not." 

She  gave  a  startled  cry.     Then  she  wound  her 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  343 

arms  about  his  neck  and  kissed  him  passion- 
ately. 

"  Ah,"  she  exclaimed,  breathing  between  his 
lips,  "  confess  thou  saidst  it  to  try  me.  Thou  thy- 
self dost  not  know  how  I  love  thee.  Never,  never 
would  one  heart-beat  be  the  less  for  thee.  Thou 
art  my  heaven,  my  prayers  breathe  but  of  thee, 
my  first  thought  on  arising,  the  last  one  when  I 
go  to  sleep.  For  thee  I  would  suffer  the  world's 
scorn,  the  jeers  of  the  multitude.  To  all  would  I 
be  deaf,  hearing  nothing  but  the  sound  of  thy  be- 
loved voice,  blind,  seeing  only  the  glance  of  thy 
dear,  dear  eyes." 

"  Then,"  replied  he  with  kindling  glance,  "  let 
us  go  to  my  father.  He  will  not  deny  us  his  bless- 
ing. Marry  me,  be  mine  now." 

"  I  cannot  marry  thee,"  she  said,  wringing  her 
hands.  "  I  will  do  anything  thou  wishest,  but  I 
cannot  forego  my  religion  or  be  banned  forever." 

"  Thou  wilt  deprive  me  of  my  manhood ;  do 
not  try  my  fortitude  too  far.  Saint  I  am  not ; 
there  is  a  limit  to  my  forbearance.  Human  na- 
ture is  but  faulty  at  its  best.  What  in  God's 
name  dost  thou  think  will  become  of  either  thee 
or  me  ?  " 

She  fell  down  at  his  feet.  "  Forgive  me,"  she 
sobbed,  "  I  cannot  —  cannot  do  otherwise.  Oh,  if 
the  fear  of  being  cast  out  did  not  stand  between 
us.  It  haunts  me  day  and  night.  Nowhere  can  I 
find  rest,  —  nowhere.  It  saps  at  my  life,  ever  does 
it  wrestle  to  the  same  tune.  It  burns  in  my  brain, 
and  sometimes  I  think  it  will  turn  it  afire." 


344  A   TENT  OF  GRACE 

He  raised  her  and  strained  her  to  him  in  silent 
despair.  Against  anything  tangible  he  could  fight 
sturdily  enough  and  take  up  the  odds  gladly. 
This  spectre  unmanned  and  dismayed  him. 


CHAPTEE  XLVII 

"  THOU  dost  not  appear  as  well  as  usual,  Lieb- 
chen,"  remarked  the  pastor  kindly  to  Jette  one 
afternoon.  The  early  winter  twilight  <5ast  its 
frolicking  shadows  into  the  corners  of  the  sitting- 
room,  where  a  great  fire  roared  in  the  porcelain 
stove.  The  cold  weather  had  set  in  early  this  year, 
following  close  upon  the  heels  of  a  most  glorious 
but  brief  autumn.  The  pastor  sat  again  at  his 
chess  table,  puzzling  out  his  problems  as  of  old. 
His  pipe,  with  its  great  china  bowl,  was  between 
his  lips.  A  deep  meditative  frown  intensified  the 
lines  between  the  eyebrows,  as  his  hand  hovered 
over  the  chessmen. 

Jette  sat  in  the  south  window,  where  her  place 
had  always  been,  opposite  the  Frau  Pastorin,  ever 
since  the  time  that  good  soul  had  taught  her  the 
sampler  stitch  and  how  to  sew.  The  Frau  Pastor- 
in's  chair,  with  its  cushions  of  faded  chintz,  stood 
exactly  in  the  same  position.  Her  little  work- 
table,  with  the  old-fashioned  sandal-wood  work- 
box,  stood  in  its  old  place.  Only  now  it  was 
closed ;  the  deft  fingers  which  had  ever  searched 
for  reels  of  sewing  thread  and  scissors  would 
never  use  it  more.  Her  large  mending-basket 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  345 

stood  on  the  floor  close  beside  her  chair,  the  things 
she  had  last  touched  neatly  folded  up,  just  as  she 
had  left  them.  Her  monthly  roses,  jasmine  and 
rosemary  bushes,  bloomed  as  brightly  as  ever. 
The  silver  sand  on  the  snow-white  floor  glistened, 
the  room  was  bright,  cosy,  and  warm.  Everywhere 
was  the  evidence  of  a  prudent,  industrious,  vigor- 
ous hand,  ever  busy  for  the  comfort  and  welfare 
of  the  household. 

The  linen  band  Jette  had  been  stitching  had 
dropped  unheeded  into  her  lap.  It  was  too  dark 
to  work,  but  the  lamp  had  not  yet  been  lit.  The 
Herr  Pastor  liked  the  twilight,  when  the  bright 
fire  threw  its  fitful  shadows  into  the  corners,  and 
he  could  hug  himself  in  the  comfort  within  from 
the  dreariness  without. 

There  was  something  in  Jette's  attitude,  the 
ever  busy  hands  listlessly  stretched  before  her, 
which  compelled  the  Herr  Pastor's  attention  and 
set  him  to  thinking  deeply.  He  was  startled  to 
see  the  impression  his  words  made  upon  her.  She 
almost  jumped  from  her  chair,  her  eyes  wide  with 
fright,  her  whole  attitude,  as  she  thrust  herself  far 
over  the  seat,  most  expressive  of  terror. 

"  Nay,  I  did  not  mean  to  startle  thee,"  he  said 
half  soothingly,  half  reprovingly ;  "  surely  there 
was  nothing  in  what  I  said  to  make  thee  act  so. 
It  seems  to  me  thou  art  pining  for  something,  for 
lately  thou  art  strangely  quiet  and  sedate.  Wilt 
thou  not  tell  me  what  ails  thee  ?  " 

"Nothing  —  nothing  ails  me,"  she  replied  hur- 
riedly ;  "  indeed  you  are  mistaken." 


346  A   TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  Ah,  well,"  he  said  softly.  "  'T  were  better 
thou  hadst  some  one  of  thy  own  sex,  young  like 
thyself,  to  go  to  at  times  and  talk  to.  Often  have 
I  regretted  the  want  of  a  suitable  companion  for 
thee.  Youth  seeks  youth,  as  is  but  natural.  I 
do  not  know  of  anything  that  could  lie  heavy  on 
thy  heart.  Since  the  dear  mamma  is  gone  thou 
hast  no  one  to  admonish  or  advise  thee." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment  as  he  watched  her 
in  mute  perplexity.  The  gathering  shadows  pre- 
vented him  from  seeing  her  face.  But  he  heard 
her  quick,  hurried  breathing. 

"  Jettchen,"  he  queried  hesitatingly,  "hast  thou 
ever  regretted  thou  didst  not  marry  the  banker?" 

"Never,"  she  answered  emphatically;  "come 
what  may,  never  can  I  regret  it.  He  was  hateful, 
abhorrent  to  me.  More  plainly  do  I  see  every 
day  that  he  would  have  made  my  life  unbearable. 
I  loved  his  mother,  but  I  shrank  from  him." 

"  It  is  a  great  relief  to  me  to  hear  thee  say 
that.  I  am  glad  thou  didst  not  marry  him,  for 
he  was  no  fit  man  for  a  girl  like  thee.  There  are 
other  things  besides  money  necessary  for  a  wife's 
happiness.  I  am  only  sorry  thou  didst  not  tell 
me  the  truth  earlier.  Thou  mightest  have  had  a 
desirable  wooer  in  the  mean  time,  who  would  have 
suited  thee,  and  carried  thee  off  to  a  home  of  thy 
own  by  now." 

"  Are  you  sorry  to  have  me  here  ? "  she  asked 
with  strange  wistfulness. 

"  Now  thou  hast  made  me  angry !  Thou  knowest 
very  well  what  thou  art  to  me  and  good  old 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  347 

Babbett.  Especially  at  the  time  when  —  when 
the  dear  mamma  went  —  what  should  we  have 
done  without  thee  ?  " 

"Oh,"  she  muttered  in  a  stifled  voice,  "if  I 
could  only  take  out  my  heart  and  show  you  what 
passes  within  there  now.  What  have  I  done  in 
return  for  all  the  love  and  kindness  heaped  upon 
me  ?  "  She  wrung  her  hands  under  her  black  silk 
apron,  but  he  did  not  see  it. 

"Like  a  dutiful,  loving  daughter  hast  thou 
been,"  he  answered  with  emotion.  "  A  thousand- 
fold hast  thou  repaid  what  little  we  ever  did  for 
thee.  And  to  see  thee  grow  up  in  maidenly  beauty 
and  purity  —  dost  thou  think  that  is  no  pleasure 
for  an  old  man  like  me  ?  "  She  uttered  a  sup- 
pressed moan,  as  he  continued,  "  But  in  the  com- 
fort thou  preparest  for  me  thy  own  welfare  must 
not  be  forgotten.  Thou  art  now  in  the  full  hey- 
day of  thy  lovely  youth  and  must  get  a  home  of 
thy  own.  Never  thou  fear,  we  will  get  a  suitable 
husband  for  thee."  He  rose  and  cordially  tapped 
her  on  the  shoulder.  She  shrank,  as  if  she  felt 
herself  withering  under  his  touch. 

"  Oh  no,  oh  no,"  she  said ;  "  let  me  stay  here 
and  care  for  you.  I  ask  no  better  lot  in  life." 

"  Thou  must  not  worry  about  me ;  Fritz  will 
marry,  and  I  shall  do  very  well.  Besides,  Babbett 
seems  to  be  growing  strong  again.  What  little 
there  is  to  do  for  us  two  old  people  she  will  be 
able  to  manage." 

"  Alas,"  she  replied,  "  nowhere  —  nowhere  seems 
there  to  be  a  place  for  me." 


348  A  TENT   OF  GRACE 

"  How  sayest  thou  that  ?  "  he  uttered.  He  stood 
still,  looking  at  her  through  the  enshrouding  gloom. 
"  What  strange  words  are  these  ?  How  comest 
thou  to  that  tone  of  voice? "  He  was  silent  for  a 
moment,  then  he  said  so  softly  it  brought  the 
tears  in  a  rush  to  her  eyes,  "  Thou  hast  something 
on  thy  mind,  girl!  Canst  thou  not  trust  me? 
Speak  to  me  as  if  I  were  thy  confessor  and  none 
but  the  Almighty  One  and  I  heard  thee !  " 

In  the  darkness  he  could  see  that  she  struggled 
with  herself.  Then  she  murmured,  "  Sitting  here 
in  the  dark  has  depressed  me.  'T  is  then  one's 
thoughts  turn  to  gloomy  things.  I  will  go  out  for  a 
moment  into  the  fresh  air,  then  bring  in  the  lamp.'* 

He  detained  her.  "  Kemember,"  he  said,  "  all 
evil  comes  from  deceit.  It  brings  woe  unutterable 
to  the  unsuspecting  innocent,  who  more  often  than 
not  go  under,  unable  to  extricate  themselves  from 
the  snare  others  spread  for  their  unwary  feet." 

With  bowed  head  she  passed  out.  But  she  did 
not  speak. 

CHAPTER  XL VIII 

AT  the  end  of  the  week  the  doctor  came.  The 
interval  between  this  and  his  last  visit  had  been 
longer  than  usual.  Therefore  his  father's  heart 
rejoiced  exceedingly  to  see  him  again,  for  these 
visits,  necessarily  brief  and  few  and  far  between, 
were  to  him  like  a  glimpse  of  his  own  happy 
youth.  The  doctor  looked  strong  and  well  as 
usual,  but  there  was  a  restless  activity  about  his 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  349 

movements  which  would  hardly  allow  him  to  be 
still  for  two  minutes  at  a  time.  He  arrived  about 
the  same  hour  as  he  always  did,  late  in  the  evening. 
The  household  crowded  to  the  gate,  of  course,  as 
soon  as  they  heard  the  guard's  horn  merrily  tooting 
"  Die  Post  im  Walde."  All  knew  that  Fritz  had 
come,  and  the  Herr  Pastor  had  his  head  in  at  the 
post-chaise  window  before  it  had  fairly  stopped. 
Everybody's  eyes  sparkled,  the  father  kissed  and 
hugged  his  big  boy,  and  had  to  stand  on  tiptoe  to 
do  it.  There  were  merry  greetings  and  hand- 
shakings all  round.  The  traveler  was  hurried 
into  the  warm  sitting-room,  where  he  threw  off 
his  fur  cloak,  and  greeted  everybody  again  in  his 
boyish,  hearty  fashion.  A  bright  red  spot  burned 
in  either  of  Jette's  cheeks,  as  she  quickly  went  to 
and  fro,  caring  for  the  dear  arrival's  comfort.  An 
ardent,  meaning  look  he  gave  her,  as  she  placed 
the  steaming  hot  dishes  before  him,  a  look  which 
sent  a  tremor  through  her  limbs  and  made  the 
pupil  of  her  eye  large  with  fear.  The  pastor  sat 
opposite  him,  hugging  his  lean  knees  with  delight. 
His  joy  and  happiness  as  he  watched  his  boy  eat 
fairly  transfigured  his  plain,  homely  features. 

"  Thou  dost  not  seem  to  have  brought  thy  usual 
appetite  with  thee,"  he  complained  rather  disconso- 
lately ;  "  is  not  everything  prepared  to  thy  liking  ?  " 

"  Everything  is  as  excellent  as  the  fondest  care 
combined  with  skill  could  make  it,"  replied  the  doc- 
tor heartily.  "  I  was  provided  with  an  excellent 
lunch  on  the  way,  which  probably  took  the  edge 
off  my  hunger." 


360  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

He  got  up  and  walked  about  restlessly,  taking 
up  an  object  here,  another  one  there,  intently 
examining  it  as  if  he  saw  it  for  the  first  time,  yet 
in  reality  seeing  nothing.  His  eyes  flashed  with 
concentrated  brilliancy,  a  dark  red  flame  in  his 
cheeks.  Never  in  his  life  had  he  looked  so  hand- 
some ;  even  his  father  was  struck  by  it. 

"  Now  sit  thee  down,"  he  observed,  "  here  where 
I  can  see  thee.  There  is  thy  pipe  just  where  thou 
leftest  it.  Jettchen  is  always  careful  to  clean  out 
the  bowl  and  put  it  back  in  its  accustomed  place. 
And  now  tell  me  of  what  goes  on  outside,  —  thy 
world,  dear  boy,  in  which  I  am  most  interested." 

"  One  moment,  dear  papa,  and  I  'm  at  your 
service."  He  followed  Jette  into  the  passage  out- 
side, and  with  a  gesture  full  of  love  and  passionate 
devotion  took  her  in  his  arms. 

"  Do  thou  go  to  rest,  dearest,"  he  said,  as  he 
fondly  smoothed  the  hair  back  from  her  brow. 
"  To-night  all  shall  be  told." 

"  Thou  art  about  to  plant  the  dagger  in  his 
heart,"  she  sighed  in  a  broken  voice,  "  and  he  will 
bleed  to  death." 

"  Nay,  thou  art  forever  seeing  phantoms.  Trust 
me,  all  will  turn  out  well." 

"  Oh,  if  the  night  were  passed,"  she  groaned.  "  I 
quake  in  trembling  and  fear." 

"  Nay,  't  is  not  thus  thou  must  fortify  me  ;  be 
strong  with  me,  dearest.  Now  everything  shall  be 
made  clear  between  us.  No  longer  will  we  dwell 
apart,  thou  here,  I  there,  leaving  all  that  puts 
heart  in  a  man's  work  behind  me.  Thou  must 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  351 

come  with  me,  —  thou,  the  light  and  spirit  of  my 
life,  my  dear,  dear  wife,  —  to  go  hand  in  hand 
with  me  forever." 

Her  head  was  hidden  in  his  breast,  low  sobs 
came  from  her  lips.  He  kissed  her  again  and 
again.  As  he  watched  her  go  up  the  stairs,  the 
pastor  opened  the  sitting-room  door. 

"  Boy,"  he  called,  —  "  boy,  where  art  thou  ? 
what  detains  thee  ?  "  He  made  a  step  out  into 
the  passage  and  saw  Jette  as  she  vanished  round 
the  first  landing.  She  had  just  sent  a  last  glance 
out  of  her  troubled  eyes  to  the  doctor,  standing 
below,  who,  with  one  hand  on  the  banisters,  the 
other  gracefully  held  on  his  hip,  returned  it  with 
one  of  loving  assurance.  The  pastor  saw  the  smile 
upon  his  lips  and  the  look  in  his  eyes,  and  a  vague 
feeling  of  uneasiness  tightened  about  his  heart. 

"Hast  been  talking  to  Jettchen?"  he  asked. 
In  the  dimly  lighted  passage  he  looked  'at  him 
keenly.  "  Perhaps  she  has  confided  to  thee  what 
ails  her." 

The  doctor  led  the  way  back  to  the  sitting-room. 
The  opening  was  just  what  he  wanted.  "  What 
should  ail  her  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  She  is  not  her  usual  self,"  said  the  pastor ; 
"  the  girl  frets,  I  think.  At  odd  times  I  have  seen 
her  look  so  forlorn,  so  sad,  it  sent  all  kinds  of 
strange  thoughts  through  my  brain.  Perhaps  she 
worries  about  the  future  —  she  ought  not  to  waste 
the  best  part  of  her  life  in  this  solitude.  A  hus- 
band must  be  found  for  her.  When  spring  comes 
again  and  one  can  more  easily  move  about  from 


352  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

one  place  to  another,  I  must  set  myself  to  the  task 
in  earnest." 

"  Give  thyself  no  further  concern  on  that  score," 
answered  the  doctor  ;  "a  husband  has  been  found 
for  her  long  ago." 

Not  the  words,  but  the  tone  in  which  he  spoke 
them  made  the  pastor  rise  from  his  chair.  He 
trembled  so  he  had  to  steady  himself  by  a  corner 
of  the  table.  Articulating  slowly  he  said  unstead- 

ily,- 

"  Thou  seemest  to  be  wonderfully  well  informed. 
Perhaps  thou  wilt  be  kind  enough  to  tell  me  who 
he  is?" 

Their  eyes  met.  The  Frau  Pastorin  had  always 
said  that  for  tale-bearing  she  had  never  seen  any- 
thing like  it.  Both  were  alike  in  that  respect.  If 
either  of  them  ever  tried  to  conceal  anything  one 
had  only  to  look  into  his  eyes  to  see  it  legibly 
written  there.  What  the  pastor  now  saw  in  the 
glance  meeting  his  own  made  him  reel  as  if  he  were 
about  to  fall. 

"  It  cannot  be,"  he  faltered ;  "  surely  —  surely 
thou  dost  not  mean  "  — 

"  Sit  down,  papa,"  begged  the  doctor.  He  put 
his  arm  round  the  father's  shoulder  and  gently 
replaced  him  in  his  chair. 

"  Thou  must  listen  to  what  I  have  to  tell  thee," 
he  said,  "without  exciting  thyself.  Long  and 
heavy  has  it  lain  on  my  heart,  and  now  the  load 
must  off  for  evermore.  Neither  she  nor  I  can  live 
like  this  any  longer." 

"  But  this  is  fearful,"  exclaimed  the  old  pastor 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  353 

piteously ;  "  thou  —  she  —  boy,  thou  knowest  not 
what  thou  sayest."  He  gazed  around  him  vacantly, 
then  said  with  sudden  vehemence,  "  Hast  thou  told 
her  of  thy  love  ?  " 

"  She  knows  it,  since  the  day  I  came  back  from 
Vienna." 

"  For  years,"  cried  the  pastor,  —  "  for  years 
this  deceit  has  gone  on  ?  Here  —  while  thy  mo- 
ther was  alive  —  before  our  very  faces  ?  Hadst  thou 
no  manhood  and  she  no  shame  —  and  yet  —  yet  — 
since  thou  earnest  back  from  Vienna,  sayest  thou  ? 
How  then  is  it  possible  "  — 

"  Dost  thou  remember  when  in  the  dawn  of  the 
morning  she  found  Hans  and  me  asleep  in  the 
orchard  out  yonder,  and  she  awoke  us  and  brought 
us  here  ?  that  was  also  the  dawn  of  my  love,  papa. 
Ever  she  grew  dearer  to  me,  day  by  day ;  it  was 
a  passion  against  which  there  was  no  arguing  or 
appeal.  I  thought  that  perhaps  absence  and  a 
busy  life  would  cure  it,  but,  strong  as  the  breath 
of  life  I  drew,  it  shadowed  me  wherever  I  went, 
—  at  once  the  sweet  and  the  torment  of  my  exist- 
ence. I  could  not  forget  her ;  struggle  as  I  might 
ever  and  ever  the  feeling  came  back  to  me  a  thou- 
sandfold stronger  than  before.  Then  I  knew  that 
fate  had  overtaken  me ;  I  ceased  to  battle  with 
what  was  stronger  than  I.  I  labored  —  thou  and 
the  world  know  how  —  that  I  might  win  her  and 
bear  her  off  to  my  home,  where  she  should  be  my 
own,  my  beloved,  dearly  cherished  wife.  Ah !  " 
he  cried  passionately,  thrusting  his  hands  out  be- 
fore him,  "  never  was  battle  harder  to  fight,  never 


354  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

was  dream  more  difficult  of  realization.  What 
we  have  suffered  —  she  and  I  —  surely  needs  some 
compensation." 

Under  the  rapid  flow  of  his  son's  speech,  the 
pastor  sat  as  one  stunned.  Picture  after  picture 
unrolled  itself  before  his  mind  —  probabilities  he 
dared  not  contemplate,  and  yet  —  he  must  know 
all. 

"  And  all  this  time,"  he  ejaculated,  —  "  all  this 
time  thou  never  saidst  a  word,  but  hugged  thy 
guilty  secret  —  thou  and  she." 

"In  that  I  have  erred,"  answered  the  doctor 
humbly ;  "  I  acknowledge  it  to  my  shame  and 
sorrow.  If  the  great  calamity  —  thou  knowest, 
mamma's  death  —  had  not  overtaken  us,  all  should 
have  been  told  long  ago." 

"  God  in  heaven  !  "  said  the  old  man  helplessly, 
"  what  is  to  be  the  end  of  this  ?  Thou  canst  not 
marry  her  —  and  she  —  I  suppose  thou  wilt  tell  me 
that  she  returns  thy  love  ?  " 

"  She  loves  me  as  I  love  her,  and  she  will  no 
more  deny  her  love  than  I  will." 

"  She  must  go  away  from  here,"  exclaimed  the 
pastor,  springing  to  his  feet ;  "  no  longer  can  this 
horrible  thing  continue.  This,  then,  is  the  reason 
she  is  so  sad  and  depressed  all  the  time  "  — 

"Stay,  papa,"  interrupted  the  doctor,  "thou 
saidst  horrible  —  is  it  such  a  fearful  thing  to  love 
one  another  ?  " 

"  Canst  thou  not  see,"  uttered  his  father,  agi- 
tated almost  beyond  control,  "  that  a  marriage 
between  you  two  is  impossible  ?  Aside  from  all 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  355 

other  considerations,  thou  wouldst  ruin  thy  career 
and  ostracize  thyself  from  society  for  all  time  to 
come." 

"  Because  she  is  poor  ?  " 

"  Thou  fool !  because  she  is  a  Jewess,  and  being 
such  cannot  wed  with  thee,  the  Christian." 

The  doctor  walked  up  and  down  the  room  in 
silence.  Then  he  said,  "  Is  it  on  that  score  thou 
ref  usest  thy  consent  ?  " 

"  Aye,  on  that  score,  and  on  that  alone.  And  if 
this  is  not  enough  for  thee,  there  are  worse  diffi- 
culties in  the  way.  The  synagogue  will  cast  her 
out  from  among  her  people  should  she  wed  with 
thee." 

"  'T  is  nothing  new ;  we  have  known  it  a  long 
time,  —  ever  since  I  first  told  her  of  my  love." 

"  And  yet  she  listened  to  thee  ?  Father  in  hea- 
ven !  Where  does  this  deceit  begin  and  where 
does  it  end  ?  Is  she  then  forsworn,  ready  to  cast 
off  what  she  has  been  taught  to  hold  as  nearest  and 
sacred  —  what  even  the  most  degraded  cling  to  if 
all  else  is  forsaken  ?  " 

"We  will  reckon  with  that  afterwards.  Do 
thou  first  give  thy  consent.  Papa,  dear  papa  !  do 
not  abandon  us  to  misery.  Listen,  I  beseech  thee ! 
do  not  forever  make  two  lives  miserable.  Do 
thou  give  thy  consent  to  our  union.  Then  I  shall 
be  strong  to  battle  with  the  rest." 

"  Cease,"  said  the  pastor  harshly ;  "  't  is  not 
seemly  thou  shouldst  degrade  thy  manhood  still 
further  than  thou  hast  already  done.  Never  will 
I  give  my  consent  to  such  an  unnatural  union. 


356  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

Thou  knowest  me,  and  that  what  I  say  I  adhere 
to.  Forsworn  and  deceitful  have  you  been  both, 
and  't  is  only  fair  you  should  suffer  for  it.  Now 
stern  duty  beckons  with  unrelenting  finger,  and  it 
shall  be  my  care  to  see  that  she  is  obeyed.  You 
must  part,  and  that  instantly." 

"  Man  forsakes  me,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  but 
God  always  remains.  To  the  father  I  have  ap- 
pealed in  vain  —  now  man  must  speak  to  man." 
He  drew  a  deep  breath,  flung  back  his  head,  and 
clasped  his  hands  behind  him.  Then  he  said  very 
low,  so  that  his  voice  was  hardly  that  above  a 
whisper,  "  I  shall  cleave  to  her  as  God  himself 
commanded  husband  should  cleave  to  wife." 


CHAPTER  XLIX 

THE  two  men  stood  opposite  each  other,  the  pas- 
tor as  if  turned  to  stone.  He  flung  his  hands  from 
before  him  as  if  he  saw  some  horrible  spectre. 
Then  he  said  in  tones  fearful  to  hear,  — 

"  Thou  Fritz,  thou !  "  He  stopped,  then  uttered 
with  difficulty ;  "  Thou  liest ;  thou  art  not  so  aban- 
doned as  that."  He  came  and  knelt  in  front  of 
him.  "  Where,  then,  is  manhood  and  manhood's 
vaunted  boast,  —  honor  ?  Surely  they  rove  abroad, 
rioting  in  drunken  frenzy  at  their  own  worthless- 
ness  !  Thou  the  crown  and  glory  of  my  whitening 
hairs,  the  trusty  staff  of  these  trembling  limbs  ! 
Yesterday  more  blessed  than  a  king,  to-day  more 
sorely  abased  than  a  beggar !  " 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  357 

He  staggered  to  his  feet  and  reeled  about  the 
room  as  if  drunk.  He  flung  out  his  arms  and 
cried  out  in  tones  of  terrible  grandeur,  — 

"  Heap  the  weight  of  thy  misdoing  upon  this 
hoary  head,  that  it  may  be  trailed  deep,  deep  in  the 
dust !  Sear  this  furrowed  brow  with  the  hot  iron 
rankling  in  my  soul,  that  all  may  read  the  shame 
writ  thereupon  !  Now  is  the  world  a  howling 
chaos,  for  all  its  highways  and  signposts  are  swept 
away.  The  light  has  forsaken  mine  eyes ;  blind 
shall  I  be  and  blind  shall  I  remain  forever,  grop- 
ing I  know  not  where,  seeking  in  vain  for  a  hand 
to  guide  me.  Thou  hast  wrested  the  staff  from  my 
hand,  broken  it  in  pieces,  and  flung  it  in  sheer 
wantonness  of  spirit  at  my  aged  and  trembling 
feet!" 

He  was  silent  a  moment.  His  arms  hung  help- 
lessly at  his  side,  his  head  sunk  upon  his  breast. 
He  walked  to  his  wife's  empty  chair  and  steadied 
himself  by  its  arms. 

"  One  brings  children  into  the  world,"  he  said, 
"and  counts  upon  them  as  a  safe  investment  to 
support  one's  feeble  old  age,  and  then  wakes  up  to 
find  one's  self  bankrupt  —  thus  !  " 

He  threw  out  his  hands  towards  his  son  and  fell 
prone  upon  the  floor. 


CHAPTER  L 

DAYS  went  by  before  the  stricken  man  regained 
consciousness.     It  was  a  stroke  of  paralysis,  and 


358  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

for  some  time  it  looked  as  if  he  would  pass  away. 
Nothing  but  the  most  assiduous  care  could  ever 
have  brought  him  round  again.  Time  and  his 
own  indefatigable  spirit  might  do  wonders,  but  he 
would  never  be  the  same  vigorous,  hale,  hearty 
man  again  ;  that  was  plain  to  every  one. 

As  his  senses  slowly  came  back  to  him,  who 
shall  say  what  thoughts  struggled  for  supremacy 
out  of  the  warring  confusion  of  his  heart  and 
brain?  To  no  one  but  the  Divine  is  it  given  to 
read  what  passes  in  the  human  breast.  No  one 
but  the  Divine  can  inspire  what  there  is  of  pity, 
sympathy,  and  understanding  for  human  suffer- 
ing and  human  woe.  No  one  but  the  Divine  can 
infuse  that  spark  from  his  own  mighty  spirit 
which  makes  human  nature  view  itself  as  it  really 
is  —  with  all  its  failings  and  all  its  foibles,  think 
upon  it,  —  weak,  erring,  incomplete.  And  as  it 
is  given  to  no  man  to  be  anything  but  human,  so 
no  man  has  the  right  to  condemn  his  erring 
brother  to  shame  and  torture  by  flinging  him 
deeper  into  the  pit  into  which  his  weakness  of 
will  or  errors  of  judgment  have  thrown  him. 
Lives  there  one  in  all  the  world  who  can  come 
forward  preening  an  unsullied  plumage,  lifting 
high  his  crest  to  proclaim  with  haughty  assurance 
that  he  alone  of  all  is  guiltless  ?  If  so,  then  let 
him  step  forth,  that  all  may  fall  down  and  worship 
him. 

The  march  of  our  much  vaunted  enlightenment, 
lumbering  on  its  ponderous  way,  is  like  that  of  an 
unlicked  schoolboy  on  his  way  to  school,  stopping 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  359 

for  a  wrangle  here,  a  bullying  contention  there. 
One  longs  to  knock  some  sense  into  his  unfledged 
carcass,  or  to  accelerate  his  speed  by  a  timely  and 
vigorous  shove.  There  is  too  much  religion  upon 
the  lips,  too  little  spirituality  in  the  heart.  Creed 
wars  with  creed,  splits  itself  into  factions,  denomi- 
nations, —  God  knows  what.  One  calls  itself  this, 
the  other  one  that ;  and  in  their  struggle  for  su- 
premacy give  the  direct  lie  to  that  which  they 
claim  alone  animates  them,  —  the  Divine.  Each 
is  like  a  fakir  at  the  fair,  —  denouncing  his  com- 
petitor's wares  while  claiming  perfection  for  his 
own. 

The  pastor,  lying  upon  his  couch  of  pain  near 
the  undraped  window,  blinked  his  dazzled  eyes  in 
the  brightening  sun,  and  felt  that  it  was  good  to 
be  warmed  by  its  rays  once  more.  As  he  watched 
the  radiant  beams  mounting  higher  and  higher  in 
the  heavens,  there  were  illumined  for  him  many 
things  which  had  hitherto  been  enshrouded  in 
darkness.  At  last  he  understood  in  its  grand,  full 
significance,  "  Let  there  be  light."  He  looked 
back  down  the  road  of  his  earthly  journey,  and 
now  near  the  end,  saw  all  he  had  been  blind  to  on 
the  way.  No,  not  blind  ;  his  vision  had  only  been 
obscured.  Now  the  film  was  removed  he  could 
see  all  the  roses,  as  well  as  the  thorns,  he  had 
missed  on  the  way.  He  saw  his  son  as  he  really 
was,  shorn  of  the  crown  of  glory  he  had  woven 
around  his  head,  —  only  human,  that  was  all ; 
human  in  his  folly,  his  pride,  his  love,  his  strength, 
his  errors,  and  his  judgment,  —  in  all  those  attri- 


360  A   TENT  OF  GRACE 

butes,  some  more,  some  less,  which  go  to  make 
up  the  sum  and  substance  of  our  natures.  He 
saw  him  with  all  his  imperfections,  but  also  his 
virtues  thick  upon  him.  The  highway  of  life  is 
thorny  and  rough,  sometimes  our  vision  is  dimmed 
that  we  cannot  see,  —  what  wonder  that  many  lose 
their  foothold,  stumble,  and  fall.  He  was  his  son, 
flesh  of  his  flesh,  blood  of  his  blood,  —  aye,  that 
was  it !  It  was  the  father  who  looked  at  him,  — 
the  father ! 

The  father  who  has  never  watched  beside  the 
sick-bed  of  a  beloved  child ;  who  has  never  heark- 
ened to  its  cry  of  distress  in  the  still  hours  of  the 
night ;  who  has  never  moistened  the  fever-parched 
lips,  or  gazed  into  the  wandering  eyes,  seeking  for 
the  truant  consciousness ;  who  has  never  strained 
the  cherished  little  form  to  his  agonized  breast, 
beseeching  Him  on  high  to  take  all  of  his  worldly 
goods,  but  to  spare  him  this  one  little  blossom ; 
who  has  never  done  fierce  battle  with  the  gaunt 
destroyer,  and  fought  the  bitter  fight  inch  by  inch, 
until  the  enemy  was  routed  —  he  has  never  had  his 
foot  on  the  step  of  the  sanctuary  or  probed  in  its 
depths  the  might  of  fatherly  love. 

Looking  at  the  bronzed  man  before  him,  he 
lived  over  again  the  hour  of  peril  and  travail. 
The  boy  was  six  years  old  when  he  was  stricken 
with  scarlet  fever.  He  was  saved,  —  but  the  strug- 
gle had  been  fearful.  Night  after  night  he  had  sat 
at  his  bedside,  soothing  the  pain-racked  form,  cool- 
ing the  burning  throat,  and  beguiling  the  tedium 
of  convalescence  with  stories  of  Struwelpeter  and 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  361 

Buebezahl.  Death  had  hovered  very  nigh  then, 
so  nigh  that  the  Heavenly  Father  had  approached 
very  near  to  the  earthly  one. 

Our  Father,  which  art  in  heaven !  Our  Father  ! 
—  the  Father  who  enfolds  all  in  his  pitying  em- 
brace ;  who  looks  down  on  every  one  alike,  reading 
what  is  in  the  human  heart,  seeing  its  pitfalls  and 
its  errors ;  whom  all  must  face  some  day  with  no 
pleader  but  their  own  conscience,  dependent  upon 
his  mercy  and  clemency ;  before  whom  soon  he 
must  take  his  stand,  —  he  —  what  was  he  —  that 
he  should  set  himself  up  as  judge  above  his  fellows  ? 
Would  he  not  soon  have  to  plead  for  that  clemency 
he  had  a  little  while  since  refused  his  son  ? 

"  Fritz,"  he  said  softly. 

The  doctor's  eyelids  had  drooped  over  his  tired 
eyes.  No  hands  but  his  had  been  allowed  to  touch 
the  stricken  father.  Day  and  night  had  he  sat 
beside  him,  giving  the  medicine,  watchful  of  his 
every  breath.  His  face  was  worn  and  haggard ; 
what  he  had  suffered  was  plainly  written  there. 

"  Fritz,  dear  child,"  called  the  pastor. 

The  doctor  opened  his  eyes  with  a  look  of 
wonder,  as  if  he  were  dreaming.  When  he  saw 
what  was  in  the  pastor's  face,  he  was  beside  him 
with  one  bound. 

"  Papa,  dear  papa."  His  voice  was  almost  a 
sob.  He  took  the  thin  white  hands  in  his  own, 
and  lovingly  pressed  them  to  his  cheeks  and  lips. 

"  Lie  still !  "  he  said ;  "  not  yet  must  thou  exert 
thyself  in  speech.  Thou  hast  been  ill ;  thou  know- 
est  it,  eh  ?  " 


362  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  'Tis  over,"  answered  the  pastor.  "  Give  thy- 
self no  concern.  My  wandering  senses  have  re- 
turned, —  my  mind  has  seen  while  my  eyes  were 
shut.  If  thou  hast  anything  ready  with  which  to 
nourish  me,  let  me  have  it ;  not  yet  can  my  weak 
body  keep  pace  with  my  stronger  spirit,  and  what 
I  have  to  say  must  be  told  without  delay." 

The  doctor  hurried  into  the  passage  and  called 
to  Babbett,  who  soon  appeared,  bearing  a  basin  of 
strong  broth  and  a  glass  of  wine.  She  was  fol- 
lowed by  Minka,  who  jumped  upon  the  pastor's 
lap  and  affectionately  stroked  her  long  whiskers 
against  his  face. 

"  Thou  truant,"  he  said,  passing  his  hand  over 
her  coat ;  "  where  hast  thou  been  all  the  time  ? 
Formerly  thou  wert  content  to  stay  beside  me ; 
now  thou  payest  only  stately  visits,  few  and  far 
between." 

"  Thank  Heaven  you  are  better,  master ! "  in- 
spirated  Babbett.  She  looked  more  upright  and 
stronger  now  since  she  found  there  was  need  of 
her  services.  The  tears  were  in  her  eyes  as  she 
noticed  how  the  pastor  had  aged  during  these  few 
days'  illness.  But  he  looked  at  her  with  his  kind 
smile,  and  took  the  napkin  she  was  about  to  fasten 
under  his  chin  in  his  own  trembling  hands. 

"  I  will  not  be  coddled,"  he  said.  "  I  am  quite 
strong,  and  will  soon  be  downstairs  again.  Is 
everything  well  as  usual  ?  " 

"  Quite  well,"  replied  the  old  woman  cheerfully. 
She  knew  that  his  anxiety  was  for  the  lonely, 
heart-broken  girl  downstairs,  to  whom  it  would  be 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  363 

renewed  life  to  hear  he  had  inquired  for  her.  She 
went  down,  leaving  Minka  with  her  master,  who 
would  not  leave  him. 

The  doctor  sat  on  a  low  stool  in  front  of  his 
father's  couch,  holding  the  tray  on  his  knees,  re- 
joicing at  every  spoonful  he  swallowed.  At  first 
he  had  attempted  to  feed  him,  but  the  pastor  had 
resented  it  with  playful  indignation. 

"  See,"  he  challenged,  holding  out  his  hand 
which,  in  spite  of  his  immense  will  power,  trembled 
incessantly,  "how  strong  I  am.  I  need  only  to 
nourish  myself  for  a  few  days,  then  all  will  be  as 
before.  Give  me  the  wine,  boy.  Nay,  thou  mayest 
hold  it  to  my  lips  till  the  first  drops  are  sipped. 
'T  is  not  because  my  hand  trembles,  but  the  good 
soul,  Babbett,  filled  the  glass  over  full.  Ah,  that 
is  good  !  that  puts  new  life  into  one.  Thou  must 
have  paid  a  great  price  for  this  port,  my  son,  for 
every  drop  seems  to  renew  into  vigor  the  old  blood 
in  my  heart." 

When  he  had  drained  the  last  drop  of  wine  and 
swallowed  all  the  broth  he  lay  back,  strengthened 
and  refreshed.  A  bright  spot  burned  in  either 
thin  cheek,  a  steady  fire  glowed  in  his  sunken 
eyes. 

"  Now  I  can  speak,"  he  said.  "  Stand  over 
yonder,  Fritz,  —  there  right  in  the  light  where  I 
can  see  thee." 

The  doctor  went  and  leaned  against  the  window- 
frame,  where  the  sunbeams  turned  his  curls  into 
gold  and  lit  up  with  the  same  glory  the  depths  of 
his  dark  brown  eyes.  For  a  moment  the  father 


364  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

looked  at  him  steadily,  with  a  tremor  of  the  lip 
and  a  moisture  in  the  eye. 

"  Thou  art  all  that  is  fair  and  comely  to  the 
eye,"  he  observed,  "  just  as  thy  mother  of  blessed 
memory  was.  Long  did  I  murmur  when  she  was 
taken  away ;  but  now  I  see  that  it  was  best,  as 
everything  the  Lord  does  in  his  infinite  wisdom 
and  mercy." 

The  doctor  made  a  gesture  as  if  afraid  his  father 
was  about  to  excite  himself.  But  the  pastor  was 
quite  composed  and  calm. 

u  I  do  not  say  it  to  reproach  thee,"  he  continued. 
"  Fools  upbraid,  wise  men  act.  And  as  thy  be- 
havior has  been  such  as  to  call  forth  immediate 
action,  I  can  only  tell  thee  what  is  in  my  mind  ac- 
cording to  the  light  vouchsafed  me.  Thou  must  go 
away,  —  at  once.  'T  is  not  seemly  thou  shouldst 
continue  in  the  house  thy  mother  sanctified  with 
her  presence,  —  not  you  and  she  together.  Nay, 
hear  me  in  silence  until  I  have  finished.  Thou 
must  marry  her  —  now,  —  that  is  plain  enough. 
First  comes  duty,  —  to  the  rest  you  must  both 
adjust  yourselves.  'Twill  not  be  easy,  depend 
upon  it." 

The  doctor  threw  himself  beside  his  father's 
couch.  "  I  knew  thee,"  he  exclaimed.  "  All  the 
devotion  of  my  life  shall  testify  to  the  burden  of 
gratitude  I  owe  thee.  Now  thy  consent  is  gained 
I  do  not  fear  the  rest." 

The  pastor  shook  his  head.  "The  most  diffi- 
cult remains.  Tell  me  —  was  she  ever  willing  to 
marry  thee  ?  " 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  365 

"  No,"  said  the  doctor,  "  else  "  —  He  hesitated. 
His  head  was  lowered  upon  his  breast. 

"  Else  had  this  never  happened,"  concluded  the 
pastor.  "  'T  is  I  myself  who  insisted  upon  the 
rigorous  fulfillment  of  all  the  requirements  of  her 
religion.  'T  is  the  most  sacred  duty  of  the  indi- 
vidual to  cherish  the  belief  of  his  ancestors.  Of 
all  misdoings  of  human  kind,  none  stink  worse  in 
the  nostril  than  apostasy.  Being  born  a  Jewess, 
not  all  the  might  of  her  love  can  undo  the  fact, 
and  I  rejoice  that  in  this,  at  least,  she  showed  her- 
self stanch  and  true." 

"Papa,"  entreated  the  son,  —  "papa,"  he 
pleaded,  "  do  thou  not  be  hard  upon  her.  Before 
God  she  is  blameless  "  — 

"Thou  art  a  man,"  said  the  pastor  steadily, 
"  and  must  bear  thy  man's  measure." 

"  If  I  were  less  of  a  man,  would  it  concern  me 
near  so  much?  Would  that  I  could  absorb  her 
part  of  the  burden  into  my  very  marrow,  that 
once  being  there  it  should  knit  itself  into  the  bone 
and  absolve  her  forever." 

"  Speech  must  rest  idle  now ;  a  remedy  must  be 
found  for  what  is  done.  Now  you  will  have  to  wait 
awhile  until  I  am  strong  enough  to  have  speech 
with  her  rabbi.  He  must  if  possible  be  induced 
to  give  his  consent,  that  her  scruples  may  be 
allayed." 

He  stopped  a  moment,  then  asked  softly,  "  Hast 
thou  thought  of  any  plan  in  case  —  in  case  this 
fails  ?  " 

The   doctor's  color  came  and  went.     Then   he 


366  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

said  quickly  and  ever  more  quickly  and  passion- 
ately, "  She  must  not  be  disgraced.  There  is  a 
land  —  far  across  the  sea  —  where  neither  she  nor 
I  are  known  —  where  liberty  of  thought  and  action 
prevails  —  where  life  may  be  begun  anew  and 
made  hallowed  and  sweet  by  our  own  efforts. 
'T  would  be  a  hard  wrench,  I  know  "  — 

"  Thou  wouldst  leave  me !  "  cried  the  pastor. 
Neither  his  body  nor  his  faculties  were  as  strong 
as  he  led  others  to  believe.  He  trembled  like  a 
child  about  to  be  left  alone  in  the  dark.  The  tears 
ran  down  his  furrowed  cheeks.  "  Thou  wouldst 
leave  me,"  he  repeated  in  tones  pitiful  to  hear,  "  to 
die  desolate  and  alone,  with  strange  hands  to  close 
my  eyes  in  death  !  Oh,  no,  thou  couldst  not  do 
this.  Wait  but  a  little  while  —  it  will  not  be  for 
long"- 

"  Papa !  "  cried  the  doctor.  He  fell  on  his  knees 
beside  him  and  took  the  dear,  honored  white  head 
between  his  hands.  "  What  am  I,"  he  said, 
"compared  to  thy  heroic  unselfishness?  Thou 
dear,  good,  purest  of  all  pure  souls !  come  what 
may,  never  will  I  leave  thy  tottering  old  footsteps 
to  grope  their  way  alone.  We  are  young,  —  the 
woman  I  love  and  I,  —  and  shame  to  us  both  if  we 
do  not  shoulder  the  burden  of  our  responsibility. 
Now  thou  shalt  see  of  what  mettle  we  are  both 
made.  Let  there  be  no  more  talk  of  this.  Hard 
as  the  conditions  are,  we  must  comply  with  them. 
I  will  go  away,  as  thou  coinmandest.  I  will  not  re- 
turn until  thou  givest  me  leave  to.  Only  —  only 
be  kind  to  her  "  — 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  367 

"  This  is  her  home,  doubly  so  now,  by  every 
right  on  earth  and  in  heaven.  Be  thou  not  uneasy, 
my  son.  Soon  will  these  tangled  skeins  be  unrav- 
eled. Count  thou  upon  my  discretion  —  all  must 
be  settled  satisfactorily  before  things  get  whis- 
pered abroad." 

The  son  embraced  him  in  mute  fervor.  "I 
hardly  like  to  leave  thee  yet,"  he  said  anxiously  5 
"  thou  hast  spent  thyself,  and  must  rest." 

"  I  shall  rest  when  thou  art  gone  ;  thou  knowest 
I  am  in  good  hands.  Do  thou  delay  no  longer. 
Go  back  to  thy  duties  at  Bonn  —  soon  shalt  thou 
hear  from  me."  He  smiled  and  looked  lovingly 
into  his  eyes.  "  Be  of  good  heart.  Now  kiss  me 
and  say  good-by." 

The  doctor  leaned  over  and  kissed  him.  There 
was  reverence  mingled  with  love  in  the  caress  he 
gave,  as  well  there  might  be. 

"  Thou  stanch  friend,"  he  said,  "  dear,  most 
loyal  sorely  tried  one  ;  who  never  from  the  time 
thou  guidedst  my  first  tottering  footsteps  hast 
ever  failed  me  ;  thou  shalt  yet  hug  the  comforting 
assurance  to  thy  heart  that  in  thy  eyes  I  have  re- 
deemed myself,  God  helping  me,  of  course."  He 
bent  the  knee,  and  the  old  pastor  raised  his  trem- 
bling hands  over  the  bowed  head  and  blessed  him. 
For  a  moment  both  were  silent ;  then  the  son 
arose,  softly  pressed  his  lips  to  the  old  father's 
brow,  and  left  him.  At  the  door  he  stopped  and 
half  turned  round. 

"  Thou  wilt  ever  remember,"  he  reminded  him, 
"  what  a  terribly  aching  heart  awaits  thy  message, 


368  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

—  not  so  much  for  my  own  relief,  but  what  might 
happen  to  her." 

He  went  to  his  room,  ordered  his  few  belong- 
ings,—  for  his  visits  being  necessarily  brief,  he 
was  not  overburdened  with  luggage,  —  and  while 
Babbett  was  gone  to  order  the  special  post-chaise, 
he  went  in  search  of  Jette. 

She  was  in  the  sitting-room.  Always  had  it 
been  the  centre  of  the  family  life,  the  meeting 
place  where  each  had  met  the  other  on  common 
ground,  where  everything  of  interest  had  been 
discussed,  and  the  events  of  the  day  were  talked 
over.  Its  dreary  loneliness  struck  a  chill  to  the 
already  overburdened  heart  of  the  doctor.  He 
came  behind  her  softly,  and  leaning  over  the  back 
of  her  chair  kissed  her. 

"  Thou  must  not  sit  about  so  forlorn,"  he  re- 
proved, "  else  thou  wilt  take  all  heart  out  of  me." 

She  flushed  red  as  she  always  did  whenever  he 
looked  at  her  or  came  near  her.  The  soft  pink 
bloom  no  longer  graced  her  cheek,  but  more  beau- 
tiful than  ever  she  looked,  with  the  blue  of  her 
eye  dark  with  its  load  of  pain,  and  the  clear  pal- 
lor of  her  face  transparent  against  the  background 
of  black  hair.  She  clasped  her  hands  upon  his 
breast  and  looked  at  him  beseechingly. 

"  He  is  better,"  she  said  ;  "  Babbett  has  told  me 

—  he   is    quite  cheerful,  like  his  old    self    again. 
Will  he  allow  me  to  go  near  him  —  can  he  bear 
the  sight  of  me  ?  " 

"  Thou  art  a  foolish  child,"  answered  the  doctor, 
"  given  to  all  sorts  of  unwholesome  fancies  when 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  369 

I'm  away  from  thee."  He  put  his  arm  around 
her  and  drew  her  up  to  him.  "  Thou  must  pro- 
mise me  not  to  fret,"  he  whispered,  "  otherwise 
my  heart  will  be  heavy  indeed.  Be  cheerful, 
dearest.  The  dark  days  are  past  —  dawn  is 
breaking.  A  little  while  yet  —  then  we  will  be 
united,  nevermore  to  part." 

"  It  would  be  too  heavenly.  I  cannot  realize  it. 
When  one  is  inured  to  suffering  the  transition  to 
joy  is  not  easy." 

"Joy  follows  upon  the  footsteps  of  grief,  as 
surely  as  the  sun  smiles  from  the  clouds.  Papa  is 
better  ;  soon  he  will  be  about  again.  Then  he  will 
set  himself  the  task  to  grapple  with  this  matter 
—  that  thy  religious  scruples  may  be  set  at  rest." 

"  And  if  he  does  not  succeed  ?  " 

"  Then  we  go  away  from  here  to  another  land, 
where  we  may  all  dwell  in  peace  and  happiness  to- 
gether. Thou,  and  I,  and  he." 

"  Thy  father  will  not  go ;  his  home  is  in  thy 
mother's  grave.  'T  would  be  like  tearing  the 
fibres  from  his  heart  to  take  him  away  from  it." 

"  He  will  go  with  us,  never  fear.  We  will  give 
him  time  to  grow  used  to  the  idea.  We  will  come 
back  and  fetch  him  —  after  a  year  or  so  —  when 
matters  have  quite  adjusted  themselves  —  and  you 
and  I  have  grown  old  in  our  new  happiness." 

"  I  am  happy,"  she  replied,  "  when  thou  art 
near  me.  With  thee  I  would  go  barefooted  all 
over  the  world,  following  thee  through  the  burn- 
ing desert 'or  the  ice-clad  plains,  proud  if  I  could 
minister  to  thee,  contented  with  a  look,  a  word,  a 


370  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

smile.  If  I  cannot  be  thy  wife,  I  will  be  thy 
handmaiden,  happy  to  be  of  use  to  thee  —  for 
there  is  no  other  man  like  thee,  no  one  worthy  to 
compare  with  thee.  Thou  hast  given  me  the  love 
of  a  man;  what  greater  honor  is  there  for  wo- 
man ?  Thou  hast  my  heart  entirely,  —  my  soul  I 
cannot  give  thee.  It  belongs  to  God,  and  as  He 
gave  it  to  me  in  trust,  so  will  I  have  to  reckon  with 
Him  one  day.  And  as  all  there  is  of  divine  in  me 
comes  from  Him,  so  do  I  throw  myself  upon  his 
mercy,  sure  that  He  knows  what  is  in  my  heart 
and  will  judge  accordingly." 

"  As  thou  art,"  he  said,  "  thou  suitest  me  — 
thou  hast  taken  hold  of  every  fibre  of  my  being. 
Never,  since  the  world  stood,  has  woman  entwined 
herself  around  the  heart  of  man  as  thou  hast 
around  mine.  'T  is  not  thy  beauty  alone  —  thou 
art  gifted  with  a  fatal  charm.  Whoever  looks 
into  these  eyes  feels  all  there  is  of  love  within 
him  drawn  forth  unresistingly  and  lost  within 
their  depths.  Never  did  I  think  it  possible  love 
could  possess  one  so.  Thou  art  mine  as  I  am 
thine  —  nothing  earthly  can  ever  part  us.  We 
were  created  for  each  other  —  thou  and  I." 

He  kissed  her  as  she  kissed  him,  long  and  fer- 
vently. They  were  about  to  part  —  he  with  hope 
burning  bright,  as  is  the  manner  of  man  accus- 
tomed to  plunge  in  and  overcome  strife  ;  she  with 
heart  depressed,  as  is  the  manner  of  woman  left 
behind  to  watch  and  weep.  Her  heart  was  in  her 
kisses,  as  it  was  in  her  eyes  as  she  said,  — 

"  If  happiness  were  no  more  in  store  for  me ;  if 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  371 

I  had  to  die  to-morrow  foregoing  all  that  life  holds 
dear;  still  should  I  be  satisfied  to  go.  I  have 
lived  —  for  I  have  had  the  glory  of  being  loved 
by  thee." 

"  Thou  must  not  droop  thy  head  now,"  he  re- 
marked, "  or  go  about  dejected.  Promise  me  till 
I  return  thou  wilt  be  cheerful.  When  next  I  come 
there  will  be  no  more  parting,  —  nevermore  in 
this  world.  If  thou  art  sad  I  shall  feel  it  and  all 
heart  will  go  out  of  my  work.  Buoy  me  up  with 
thy  hopefulness  —  so  shall  I  be  strong  to  battle 
for  us  both." 

It  had  grown  dark.  The  post-chaise  stood  wait- 
ing at  the  door.  There  would  be  a  bright  moon 
presently  —  the  doctor  preferred  to  journey  by 
night.  He  threw  his  fur-lined  traveling-cloak 
around  him  ;  no  king  could  have  looked  more  royal, 
with  the  rich  sable,  covering  his  tall  stately  form. 
He  flung  back  a  corner  and  she  crept  under  it,  with 
his  arm  clasping  her  to  him  close.  He  peered 
through  the  slight  aperture,  while  she  peered  up- 
ward into  his  eyes. 

"  Come  with  me,"  he  said  ;  "  it  is  dark,  no  one 
will  see  us.  I  would  like  to  take  thee  with  me  ; 
God  only  knows  how  strongly  I  wish  it." 

He  lifted  her  over  the  doorsill  and  almost  carried 
her  down  to  the  gate. 

"  Run  in,"  he  urged,  when  he  had  taken  his 
seat  in  the  chaise ;  "  thou  hast  no  covering  over 
thy  head,  thou  wilt  catch  thy  death  of  cold." 

His  eyes  were  still  on  her  face  ;  like  phosphorus 
they  gleamed  in  the  dark,  revealing  what  there 


372  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

was  of  pain,  of  anguish,  of  sorrow  there.  She  did 
not  heed  his  admonition,  but  stood  where  he  had 
left  her,  tall,  motionless,  rigid,  both  hands  raised 
in  farewell.  Now  the  moon  rose  in  the  radiant 
east,  full  glorious,  bathing  the  motionless  figure  at 
the  gate  in  a  halo  of  white  transparent  light.  He 
had  turned  for  a  last  adieu,  and  seeing  her  thus 
peremptorily  bade  the  postilions  to  stop.  Before 
they  had  fairly  obeyed  him,  he  had  leapt  from  the 
post-chaise,  run  back,  and  clasped  her  as  if  he 
would  never  let  her  go. 

"  How  can  I  leave  thee,"  he  uttered,  "  when 
thou  lookest  so.  Like  a  ghost  thou  stoodest  there, 
bidding  me  an  eternal  farewell.  Oh,  be  careful  — 
be  careful  of  thyself.  Write  to  me  every  day, 
dost  thou  hear  ?  —  every  hour  of  the  day.  Tell 
me  everything,  omit  not  the  merest  trifle.  Quick 
as  the  breath  of  life  will  I  fly  to  thee  should  st 
thou  need  me.  Go  in  —  I  pray  thee  obey  me.  I 
cannot  go  while  thou  standest  here  —  come,  let  me 
take  thee  in  myself." 

Another  moment,  and  from  her  seat  at  the 
window  the  rumble  of  wheels  told  her  that  he  was 
gone. 

CHAPTER  LI 

No  one  is  solitary  in  merriment.  His  own  joy- 
ous mood  keeps  him  company.  The  whole  world 
is  kin.  A  merry  smile,  a  bright  glance,  kindles 
a  responsive  spark.  Everything  is  in  sympathy. 
But  let  a  great  heartbreak  come ;  let  it  creep 


A   TENT  OF  GRACE  373 

up  unawares  or  foreshadowed  by  passing  events, 
then  it  is  the  human  soul  finds  it  best  to  stand 
alone.  It  is  its  foretaste  of  eternity.  The  vast 
Infinite,  enfolding  one  like  the  loving  arms  of 
maternity,  stimulates  and  consoles.  What  was 
scorned  in  happiness  becomes  a  desirable  possi- 
bility in  sorrow.  The  erring  soul,  struggling  up- 
ward toward  the  light,  must  do  so  unaided  and 
alone. 

To  the  girl  up  at  the  parsonage  time  crept 
along  on  leaden  wings.  She  had  need  of  all  her 
heroic  resolves,  to  sustain  her  during  this  time  of 
watching  and  waiting.  The  pastor  did  not  mend 
as  rapidly  as  he  thought  he  would.  The  winter 
passed,  spring  was  near  at  hand  before  he  went 
about  the  house  again.  Often  his  eye  was  vacant, 
his  mien  abstracted.  Rumor  reared  its  snaky 
crest,  bared  its  grinning  fangs,  and  scattered  its 
venom  abroad.  It  burst  out  in  foul  invective,  it 
lifted  the  finger  of  scorn  as  the  hapless  girl  passed 
by.  Gret,  lifting  little  Lieschen  up  in  her  arms, 
taught  the  baby  lips  to  utter  ribald  gibes,  to  point 
the  finger  of  derision,  to  denounce  most  fiercely, 
where  she  had  most  fondly  worshiped.  Poor 
trembling,  suffering  Lieschen !  She  could  not 
understand  why  she  should  despise  to-day  what 
she  had  been  taught  to  respect  yesterday.  Jette, 
looking  with  her  stricken  eyes  into  those  of  the 
terrified  baby's,  saw  that  the  little  heart  was 
broken,  and  in  seeing  thus  felt  her  own  break. 
She  crept  back  to  the  house,  and  left  it  no  more. 

It  was  not  long  before  these  rumors  reached 


374  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

Babbett.  She  came  in  one  morning  before  the 
noon  hour,  all  in  a  white  heat,  and  all  unheeding 
of  the  pastor's  presence  walked  straight  up  to 
Jette. 

"  Is  it  true,"  she  asked  fiercely,  "  what  people 
are  saying  of  thee  ?  " 

"  Saying  of  me  ?  "  repeated  the  girl  with  ashen 
lips. 

"  It  is  true  then,"  said  the  old  woman ;  "  God 
help  thee,  thou  unfortunate  jade." 

She  looked  at  her  in  silence.  More  of  sorrow 
than  of  anger  there  was  in  that  look. 

"  I  knew  how  it  would  be,"  she  exclaimed  ;  "  I 
knew  it  all  the  time.  Such  girls  as  thou  never 
come  to  any  good.  Thou  wert  too  finicking  by  far. 
This  did  not  suit  thee  —  the  other  was  not  to  thy 
liking  —  now  thou  hast  stirred  up  a  nice  broth  for 
thyself.  If  thou  hadst  only  married  the  banker. 
Thou  dear  Heaven !  How  hast  thou  kicked  thy 
good  fortune  out  of  sight.  But  there  was  no  one 
to  knock  any  sense  into  thee  —  if  only  they  had 
seen  in  the  cards  what  I  saw  they  would  have 
sung  a  different  tune.  Thank  Heaven,  the  mis- 
tress did  not  live  to  see  this.  And  now  I  suppose 
the  rest  will  happen  also ;  oh,  I  know  what  I 
know.  Thou  poor,  poor  thing,  one  could  cry  over 
and  pity  thee.  'T  was  this,  I  suppose,  which  made 
the  mistress  of  blessed  memory  call  out  in  her  last 
moments,  wanting  to  help  thee,  as  was  ever  her 
wont,  sweet,  blessed  saint  that  she  is.  And  now 
I  suppose  she  is  helping  the  angels  fit  on  their 
halos  properly." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  375 

Up  rose  the  pastor,  straight  and  upright,  from 
his  chair. 

"  Bring  ine  my  staff,"  he  commanded  in  his 
strong,  resonant  voice.  "  I  may  be  late  to-night. 
Let  no  one  worry  on  my  account." 


CHAPTER  LII 

THE  sun  stood  high  in  the  western  horizon 
when  the  pastor  reached  the  rabbi's  door.  Neu- 
stadt  was  a  market  town,  of  some  little  preten- 
sion, close  upon  the  Nassau  frontier.  The  house 
in  which  the  rabbi  lived  was  tall  and  dingy,  and 
the  time  being  close  upon  Passover,  it  presented 
anything  but  an  inviting  appearance.  The  win- 
dows were  bare  and  undraped;  everything  that 
was  movable  had  been  taken  down  to  undergo  the 
annual  purifying  process.  Furniture  was  piled 
together  ;  all  was  in  that  state  of  disheartening 
confusion  in  which  the  feminine  soul  delights  in 
the  happy  springtime,  and  which  is  enough  to 
make  the  stoutest  male  heart  quail. 

The  rabbi  himself  opened  the  door  in  response 
to  the  pastor's  knock.  He  was  a  small  weazened 
man,  with  a  caved-in  chest  and  the  student's  stoop 
in  his  narrow  shoulders.  His  skin  was  swarthy 
as  a  Moor's,  which  the  scant  gray  hair,  fall- 
ing upon  his  shoulders  and  covered  by  a  black 
skull  cap,  accentuated.  A  long  patriarchal  beard 
framed  in  his  chin  and  fell  in  a  tangled  mass 
upon  his  breast.  His  narrow  forehead,  deeply 


376  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

seamed  with  wrinkles,  rose  boldly  above  eyebrows 
drawn  so  close  together  as  almost  to  overshadow 
his  one  eye,  for  the  lid  of  the  other  was  drawn 
over  an  empty  socket.  It  was  an  ecce  homo  face, 
full  of  suffering,  pain,  and  weariness.  He  stared 
when  he  saw  the  pastor,  for  they  knew  each  other 
very  well,  but  courteously  invited  him  to  enter. 
As,  with  a  shuffling  gait,  he  walked  on  before,  he 
made  profuse  apologies  for  the  disorder  of  the 
house. 

"  The  confusion  of  my  mind  is  such,"  remarked 
the  visitor,  "  that  I  have  no  eye  for  outward 
things.  Pray  do  not  humiliate  me  with  excuses 
which  must  discourage  me  with  the  thought  that 
the  time  for  my  visit  was  ill  chosen." 

The  rabbi  led  the  way  to  his  study,  a  small  room 
at  the  back  of  the  house,  where  no  noises  pene- 
trated and  where  at  all  times  he  was  safe  from 
unwelcome  intrusion.  The  pastor  sank  into  a 
large  leather  armchair  near  the  window,  while  his 
host  left  him  for  a  moment  alone.  He  returned 
bearing  a  tray  with  some  glasses  and  a  bottle  of 
wine,  which  he  first  carefully  dusted,  and  then, 
with  a  great  deal  of  precaution,  opened. 

"  Old  vintage,"  he  observed,  as  he  filled  the 
glass  and  handed  it  to  his  guest.  He  filled  one 
for  himself,  and  they  gravely  clinked  their  glasses 
against  each  other.  Then  they  both  said  "  Prosit," 
and  drank,  at  first  slowly,  —  the  rabbi  with  a 
wink  of  the  eye,  and  a  subdued  smack  of  enjoy- 
ment ;  the  pastor  mechanically,  as  if  it  were  neces- 
sary to  fortify  his  waning  strength. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  377 

"Pardon  me,  reverend  sir,"  began  the  rabbi;  "you 
do  not  seem  to  be  in  your  usual  robust  health." 

"  Since  we  last  met  afflictions  of  all  sorts  have 
overtaken  me.  It  has  turned  the  silver  of  my 
hair  into  snow  and  my  heart  into  everlasting 
mourning." 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  answered  the  rabbi  with  a 
look  of  deep  sympathy.  "  I  have  heard  of  the 
calamity  which  scourged  your  village,  and  de- 
prived you  of  a  dear  and  cherished  wife.  These 
are  afflictions  sent  by  the  Lord,  and  all  that  we 
can  do  is  to  submit  ourselves  to  His  will." 

"  What  God  does  is  well  done,"  replied  the  other 
with  grandeur.  "  Happy  am  I,  thrice  happy,  that 
she  was  removed  before  that  which  has  brought 
me  here  overtook  my  house  and  brought  perpetual 
mourning  to  my  heart." 

The  rabbi's  eye  gleamed.  "  Has  it  reference  to 
the  maid  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  is  in  reference  to  her  that  I  come.  Perhaps 
you  have  heard  "  — 

"  Rumors  have  been  flying  about  lately,  which 
have  not  at  all  surprised  me.  Matters  generally 
turn  out  this  way  when  a  maid  is  willful  and  way- 
ward-hearted." 

The  pastor  rose  from  his  chair.  "  Unheard  of ! 
intolerable !  "  he  cried.  "  Oh,  that  I  had  not  been 
oblivious  to  this,  sunk  in  the  selfishness  of  my  own 
grief.  This  could  not  have  happened  then." 

"  Why  reproach  yourself  ?  matters  will  take 
their  course.  I  do  not  see  how  you  coidd  have 
prevented  it." 


378  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  If  she  had  been  a  lawful  wedded  wife  would 
her  name  be  bandied  about  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  the  rabbi,  "  lies  the  land  that 
way?"  His  bushy  brows  drew  themselves  to- 
gether. A  look  of  fierce  resistance  came  into  his 
face. 

"  She  must  marry ;  no  longer  can  it  be  delayed. 
Honor,  justice,  every  right,  human  and  divine, 
demands  it." 

"  'T  is  their  own  affair ;  what  have  I  to  do  with 
it?" 

"  The  girl's  religious  scruples  stand  in  the  way," 
said  the  pastor. 

The  rabbi  laughed  with  taunting  bitterness, 
"  Oh,  she  has  scruples  !  had  she  any  when  she 
committed  herself  ?  " 

"  Rabbi,"  said  the  pastor  with  emotion,  "  leave 
that  to  the  One  on  high  to  judge." 

"  I  do  not  presume  to  judge.  Who  am  I  that 
I  should  ?  Only  it  seems  to  me  that  a  maid 
who  has  shown  herself  to  be  as  misguided  as  she 
evidently  appears  to  be  deserves  very  little  com- 
miseration." 

"  You  make  my  task  thrice  difficult,"  said  the 
pastor. 

"  She  knew  well  what  was  in  store  for  her,"  pur- 
sued the  rabbi,  "  after  the  shameful  manner  in 
which  she  treated  the  man  who  so  highly  honored 
her  above  her  deserts.  He  was  of  her  own  re- 
ligion, pious,  God-fearing,  blest  abundantly  with 
this  world's  goods,  the  prop  and  pillar  of  the 
community.  And  he  stooped  down  from  his  great 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  379 

height  to  her,  a  beggar  maid,  when  he  might  have 
chosen  among  the  mighty  of  the  land.  Without 
a  murmur  he  waited  for  her,  yea,  as  patiently  as 
ever  did  Jacob  for  Rachel."  He  laughed  bitterly. 
"  God  save  the  mark  !  what  is  she  now !  " 

"  All  that  you  can  say  I  know,"  the  pastor  an- 
swered, "and  more.  Circumstances  there  may 
have  been,  of  which  outsiders  know  nothing,  which 
put  another  face  upon  this  matter.  The  errand 
which  brings  me  here  is  this  :  has  she  your  consent 
in  marrying  my  son  ?  " 

"  What  have  I  to  do  with  it !  'T  is  the  consent 
of  the  synagogue  that  she  wants  —  and  that  she 
will  never  obtain  —  to  marry  the  Christian.  I 
made  this  clear  enough  to  her  when  she  came  and 
plead  with  me  over  a  year  ago.  'T  is  not  for  want 
of  warning  that  she  closed  the  trap  upon  herself : 
now  let  her  see  how  she  gets  out  of  it." 

"  Oh,  no,"  observed  the  pastor  mildly,  "  that 
cannot  be  thy  creed.  God  is  merciful,  and  't  is 
thy  office  to  practice  what  He  commands." 

"Exactly.  The  Jewess  cannot  wed  with  the 
Christian.  If  she  does,  she  dies  to  her  people  ; 
they  know  her  no  more.  I  admire,  but  I  cannot 
imitate  thee." 

"  Thou  art  more  priest  than  man,  and  't  was 
to  the  man  I  came  to  appeal." 

"  I  have  yet  to  learn,"  said  the  rabbi,  "  that  the 
two  are  incompatible." 

"  If  one  overrules  the  other,  yes.  'T  was  the 
manhood  within  me  which  scorned  to  take  advan- 
tage of  a  poor,  defenseless  child  flung  for  protec- 


380  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

tion  at  my  door.  Had  I  not  in  my  own  self-con- 
ceit been  weaponed  against  future  contingencies, 
I  would  not  stand  before  thee  now  suing  for 
clemency  in  vain.  Man  is  most  weak  where  he 
thinks  himself  most  strong  —  bethink  thee,  thy 
judgment  may  be  fallible." 

"  What !  Shall  it  be  said  that  for  one  wanton 
maid  concessions  shall  be  made  which  may  tumble 
the  whole  edifice  about  our  ears,  and  bring  on  end- 
less destruction  !  Fools  there  are  enough  already 
digging  at  the  foundation,  so  that  only  the  merest 
shell  remains.  What  she  has  sown  she  must  reap ; 
't  is  the  inexorable  result  of  all  our  actions." 

"  Beware,"  said  the  pastor,  "  lest  in  trying  my 
manhood  too  far  I  spit  upon  thine.  Wanton  she 
is  not  and  never  has  been.  I  will  choke  the  foul 
lie  in  any  one's  throat  who  dare  proclaim  it.  'T  is 
not  for  thee  to  add  affliction  to  the  already  afflicted. 
Leave  that  to  the  rabble,  who  lack  enlightenment 
to  know  better." 

"  Ay,"  sneered  the  rabbi,  "  't  is  for  the  sons  of 
such  true  believers  as  thou  to  despoil  the  flower 
of  our  race.  Let  her  take  comfort.  In  that  she 
is  not  alone." 

"  If  I  have  offended  thee,"  begged  the  other, 
who  bitterly  rued  his  violence,  "  visit  thy  wrath 
upon  my  head  alone.  The  maid  is  very  dear  to 
me."  His  voice  vibrated  like  reeds  in  the  wind. 
"Be  merciful,  rabbi.  Neither  thy  days  or  mine 
are  much  longer  in  this  land  of  travail.  Bethink 
thee  of  the  terrible  responsibility  thou  takest  upon 
thyself  if  thou  refusest." 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  381 

"  Merciful !  "  cried  the  rabbi  furiously  ;  "  let  me 
conjure  up  a  picture  in  thy  mind."  His  eyes  shot 
forth  sparks  of  fire,  the  drawn  eyelid  over  the 
empty  socket  quivered.  "  In  the  streets  of  War- 
saw, at  high  noon,  there  stands  a  beautiful  young 
woman,  stripped  bare  to  the  waist.  She  is  tied  to 
a  post,  and  clasps  a  young  boy  to  her  breast.  The 
soldiers  are  scourging  her  body  till  the  lash  cuts 
to  the  bone,  tearing  great  strips  of  flesh  with  it. 
Suddenly  they  wrest  the  child  from  her,  fling  him 
to  the  ground  and  deliberately  gouge  his  eye  out. 
They  jerk  him  to  his  feet,  and,  disfigured  and  bleed- 
ing as  he  is,  thrust  the  child  into  the  mother's 
face.  She  goes  stark  staring  mad,  and  dies  in  the 
most  frightful  convulsions.  Now  why,  thou  wilt 
ask,  was  this  done?  Because  she  was  a  Jewess 
and  would  not  disclose  her  husband's  hiding-place, 
whom  they  were  seeking  for  no  worse  crime  than 
that  he  was  a  Jew.  So  they  killed  the  mother, 
and  tortured  the  child." 

"  God  in  heaven  !  "  uttered  the  pastor.  He 
moaned,  and  ran  up  and  down  the  room  like  mad. 
The  whole  frightful  tragedy  he  saw  enacted  before 
him ;  the  horror  of  it  made  his  heart  burst.  The 
rabbi's  voice  sounded  to  him  as  a  far-away  chant 
of  the  Miserere  as  he  continued,  — 

"  The  child  escaped,  and  was  sent  by  compas- 
sionate people  to  his  father,  who  had  fled  to  Paris. 
But  the  horrors  of  that  day  remained  fixed  in  his 
memory  forever.  It  will  stay  by  him  at  the  judg- 
ment seat,  where  thou,  pastor,  and  I  one  day  must 
stand  —  for  it  was  my  mother  whom  they  did  to 


382  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

death,  it  was  I  whom  they  dismembered  —  and  it 
will  guide  my  accusing  finger  to  point  out,  not  the 
butcher  hirelings  who  do  but  as  they  are  bidden, 
but  those  who  are  the  fomenters  and  instigators  of 
such  deeds." 

"  There  is  nothing  more  base,"  said  the  pastor, 
"than  human  nature  when  shorn  of  the  divine. 
There  is  nothing  more  grand  or  noble  with  it  in- 
stilled. 'T  is  given  to  man  himself  to  sink  below 
the  depth  of  the  most  ferocious  brute,  or  to  rise 
to  the  grandeur  of  a  god.  But  man  will  not  see 
this  till,  like  the  pestilence,  he  has  destroyed  what 
was  noblest  and  best  within  him.  Then  will  come 
purification.  Let  thou  and  I  take  time  by  the 
forelock,  and,  casting  all  there  is  of  rancor  out  of 
the  heart,  act  in  unison  for  the  welfare  of  others. 
Nay,  hear  me.  I  came  not  to  argue  with  thee. 
Far  was  it  from  iny  purpose  to  conjure  up  the 
frightful  memories  thou  hast  evoked.  For  this  I 
would  ask  pardon  of  thee.  Alas  !  what  can  I  say ! 
truly  thou  hast  cause  for  rancor.  But  temper  jus- 
tice with  mercy ;  bethink  thee,  thou  wilt  have  need 
of  it  thyself  one  day." 

"  I  have  said  my  say,  I  can  do  no  more.  Fain 
would  I  console  thee,  for  thou  art  an  upright  and 
true  man.  But  for  the  maid  I  have  no  other  mes- 
sage than  what  she  has  already  heard  herself,  what 
I  said  to  thee  from  the  first.  Let  her  marry  the 
Christian  if  she  will.  However,  she  will  be  cast 
out  from  among  her  people  :  they  will  know  her 
no  more." 

"  I   have   done,"  exclaimed  the  pastor ;  "  here 


A  TENT  OP  GRACE  383 

below  we  meet  no  more.  'T  is  an  ill  creed  thou 
preachest  in  preparation  of  the  life  to  come,  where 
all  are  thought  to  be  equal."  His  voice  rose  and 
gradually  swelled  like  the  deep  tones  of  an  organ, 
filling  the  little  room  with  its  grand  rhythm. 
"  Years  hence,  when  both  thou  and  I  are  as  if  we 
had  never  been,  the  edifice  thou  tryest  so  hard  to 
preserve  will  have  crumbled  into  dust.  For  no- 
thing on  earth  can  prevail  unless  it  be  founded  on 
the  solid  rock  of  brotherly  love." 

He  went,  and  softly  closed  the  door  behind  him. 


CHAPTER  LIII 

His  old-time  vigor  seemed  all  at  once  to  have 
returned  to  the  pastor.  He  went  about  with  an 
alert  step,  his  eye  was  keen  and  bright.  It  was 
so  sudden  that  everybody  saw  and  marveled  at  it. 
There  was  an  air  of  haughty  command  in  his  car- 
riage :  he  squared  his  shoulders  and  held  his  head 
high,  looking  every  one  steadily  in  the  face  on  his 
way  through  the  village.  Before  the  grandeur  of 
his  mien  base  effrontery  slunk  away  abashed  — 
who  dared  lift  up  a  voice  or  cast  a  look  of  derision 
in  presence  of  so  much  majesty  ? 

He  wrote  a  letter  to  his  son,  brief  and  to  the 
point :  "  Thou  must  order  thy  affairs,"  he  said, 
"  in  as  short  a  time  and  with  as  much  dispatch  as 
thy  eagerness  will  dictate.  I  have  failed  in  my 
mission,  and  were  it  not  that  it  will  deprive  me  of 
the  comfort  of  having  you  both  near  me  I  should 


384  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

not  be  sorry  for  it.  Thou  must  take  her  away,  — 
at  once.  God  will  take  care  of  the  rest." 

This  he  sealed  and  sent  by  special  messenger. 
A  few  days  after,  when  the  reply  came,  he  said  to 
her,  "  Go  out  into  the  warm  spring  sunshine.  No 
longer  must  thou  be  sad.  He  is  coming  to  go 
away  with  thee  across  the  trackless  ocean.  Thou 
must  be  strong;  for  the  journey  is  long  and 
rough." 

For  the  first  time  since  his  son's  confession  he 
looked  at  her  in  the  old  way,  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  her  head.  She  was  grateful,  so  humbly 
grateful,  the  sobs  threatened  to  choke  her.  She 
prostrated  herself  before  him  as  she  prayed,  — 

"  My  father,  my  more  than  father,  say  you  for- 
give me  for  all  the  sorrow  I  have  brought  upon 
your  honored  head." 

"  I  do  forgive  thee,  as  I  hope  to  be  forgiven 
myself  one  day." 

Ever  after  he  was  glad  that  he  had  looked  at 
and  spoken  to  her  kindly.  He  saw  her  go  down 
the  garden  path,  followed  by  Minka.  The  great 
cat  never  left  her  now,  just  as  if  she  had  a  pre- 
sentiment that  her  young  mistress  was  about  to 
leave  her  forever.  When  she  reached  the  little 
gate  leading  into  the  road,  Babbett  ran  out  of  her 
kitchen  and  came  flying  after  her. 

"  Art  thou  going  out  ?  Nay,  I  would  rather 
thou  wouldst  not." 

"The  Herr  Pastor  wishes  it,"  returned  Jette. 
She  spoke  humbly,  as  if  she  could  never  be  grate- 
ful enough  for  the  kind  consideration  shown  her. 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  385 

"  Nonsense,"  said  the  old  woman  crossly ;  "  thou 
canst  get  all  the  air  and  sunshine  thou  needest  in 
walking  around  the  garden  here." 

"  I  want  to  go  to  the  orchard,  and  my  own  garden 
I  took  care  of  all  these  years.  It  may  be  the  last 
time  I  shall  see  them.  We  are  to  go  away,  —  he 
and  I,  you  know,  —  perhaps  already  on  the  mor- 
row." 

"  So  soon  ?  "  ejaculated  the  old  woman.  A  pallor 
came  over  her  tight,  winter-apple-like  cheek ;  she 
drew  her  breath  in  troubled  gasps.  "  Wait,"  she 
exclaimed  almost  fiercely;  "if  thou  must  go  out 
now,  I  will  go  with  thee.  I  will  put  all  my  prepa- 
rations for  the  evening  meal  under  way,  so  it  will 
not  take  long  to  do  when  we  come  back." 

"  Oh,  no,"  protested  the  girl.  "  I  pray  thee  do 
not  put  thyself  out  for  me.  Thou  dear  old  goose ! 
one  would  think  I  was  about  to  start  on  a  long 
journey  instead  of  a  little  walk  almost  within 
sight  of  the  house.  Besides,"  —  she  turned  red, 
hesitated,  then  went  on  quickly,  — "  he  will  be 
here  to-night.  Thou  wilt  have  enough  to  do  in 
preparing  something  nice  for  him.  Perhaps  I 
may  meet  the  post-chaise  on  my  way  back.  Thou 
knowest  the  chaussee  runs  right  by  our  garden 
fence.  Then  I  will  come  back  with  him,  and  help 
thee." 

For  the  first  time  Babbett  saw  her  smile  again 
in  her  old  bright  fashion.  It  moved  the  old  woman 
strangely,  as  she  said  reluctantly  enough  :  — 

"  Oh,  well,  if  that  is  the  case,  —  if  thou  goest  to 
meet  him  —  However,  do  not  wait  for  him.  'T  is 


386  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

short  time  enough  thou  wilt  yet  be  here,  —  and  he 
will  have  thee  all  his  life  long." 

She  gazed  after  her  as  she  went  off  followed  by 
Minka,  who  with  her  stealthy  footstep  sometimes 
trotted  on  before,  then  came  back,  looking  at  the 
girl  with  her  great  phosphorescent  eyes.  And  the 
pastor  from  his  easy-chair  in  the  south  window 
saw  them,  too.  He  noticed  that  her  step  had  re- 
gained some  of  its  former  elasticity,  her  head  no 
longer  drooped  as  if  overweighted  with  its  burden 
of  sorrow.  Just  where  the  bend  in  the  road  dipped 
towards  the  valley  she  stopped,  turned  round,  and 
with  a  bright  smile  waved  her  hand  to  Babbett, 
who  still  stood  watching  at  the  gate.  And  that 
was  the  last  he  saw  of  her. 


CHAPTER  LIV 

WITH  a  lighter  heart  then  had  lain  in  her 
bosom  for  many  a  day,  Jette  descended  into  the 
valley.  The  afternoon  was  moving  on  apace ;  a 
vaporous  haze  rested  on  the  early  budding  trees, 
gladly  responding  to  the  blandishments  of  the 
sun.  She  met  an  old  crone,  the  two  front  fangs 
of  her  otherwise  toothless  mouth  showing  between 
her  withered  lips.  With  her  baleful,  bleared  eyes, 
she  looked  the  incarnation  of  the  wicked  old  fairy 
who  used  to  frighten  the  fancy  of  our  infant  days. 
Her  back  was  bent  as  she  supported  herself  on 
a  strong  staff ;  in  the  other  hand  she  carried  a 
basket  of  eggs.  Jette  recognized  her  as  a  fre- 


A  TENT   OF  GRACE  387 

quent  visitor  to  the  village,  a  mischievous,  wicked 
old  gossip,  who  matched  Gret  in  the  length  and 
foulness  of  her  tongue.  The  crone  stood  still, 
and  from  beneath  her  bent  back  let  her  baleful 
glance  travel  over  the  girl  in  a  triumphant,  mali- 
cious sneer. 

"  Aha,  my  little  doll,"  she  jeered,  "  that 's  what 
we  come  to  when  we  carry  our  heads  so  high,  eh  ? 
Now  thou  art  no  better  than  a  cast-off  garment 
which  nobody  would  stoop  to  for  the  picking  up." 

The  girl  was  about  to  pass  on  without  deigning 
look  or  answer  when  a  rushing  little  noise  behind 
her  made  her  stop.  It  was  Lieschen,  with  her 
face  grimed,  and  a  shockingly  dirty  pinafore,  her 
flaxen  hair  streaming  far  behind  her. 

"At  last  I  have  caught  you,"  she  panted,  clutch- 
ing tight  hold  of  the  girl's  dress.  "  Always  when 
you  passed  I  wanted  to  run  to  you,  but  little 
mother  would  n't  let  me.  I  saw  you  from  the  road 
while  mother  was  at  a  neighbor's,  and  I  gave  her 
the  slip,  and  have  run  all  the  way." 

Jette  stooped  and  took  the  little  thing,  all  dirty 
as  she  was,  up  in  her  arms,  looking  fondly  at  her. 

"  Let  go  the  child  !  "  said  the  crone  roughly ; 
"such  as  thou  have  no  business  with  her  any 
more."  She  tottered  towards  them,  and  pulled  the 
child  by  its  dress,  but  the  little  thing  kicked  out 
her  legs  so  vigorously  that  one  of  them  struck  the 
old  hag  squarely  in  the  chest,  causing  her  to  reel 
backward. 

"  Thou  venomous  little  imp !  "  she  screamed. 
"  Wait ;  if  I  don't  tell  thy  mother.  Such  a  wal- 


388  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

loping  shalt  thou  have  as  will  make  thy  ugly  limbs 
stiff  for  many  a  day  to  come." 

The  child  clung  in  a  frightened  manner  to  Jette, 
who  carried  her  away  some  distance,  till  quite  near 
the  garden  fence. 

"  Now  thou  must  run  back  home  ;  run  as  quick 
as  thou  canst.  I  am  glad  that  I  have  seen  thee 
again,  dear,  dear  little  Lieschen.  Here,  give  me 
another  kiss,  —  for  the  last  time.  No,  not  that 
road  must  thou  take ;  that  leads  away  from  home. 
But,  this  one,  —  yes,  that  is  right.  Now  let  me 
see  thee  use  thy  little  legs." 

She  watched  the  child  with  moist  eyes,  glad  her 
active  little  limbs  would  out-distance  the  hobbling 
hag's.  But  when  she  opened  the  wicket  gate  to 
turn  into  the  orchard,  she  did  not  see  that  the 
child  turned  round,  stopped,  then  slyly  crept  back, 
that  she  stood  for  some  moments  trying  to  climb 
the  palings,  and  that  finally  she  went  on  again, 
wandering  down  the  chaussee  instead  of  choosing 
the  road  home. 

The  encounter  with  the  old  hag  had  chased  the 
brightness  from  the  girl's  face.  With  lagging 
steps  she  went  on,  stopping  for  a  moment  to  look 
around  her.  Her  dress  caught  in  a  thorn-bush ; 
she  tried  to  disentangle  it,  but  the  thorns  were 
long  and  sharp ;  they  pierced  her  hands,  and  made 
the  blood  gush  forth  freely.  She  took  out  her 
handkerchief,  but  it  was  soon  stained  through,  — 
wherever  she  touched  herself  the  blood  trickled 
over.  The  wind  flung  back  her  mantle  ;  she  drew 
it  together  again,  shivering,  for  it  blew  chill  and 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  389 

cold.  As  she  did  so  her  white  fichu  beneath  be- 
came stained  with  the  crimson  drops,  but  she  did 
not  know  it.  She  still  held  her  handkerchief  in 
her  hand,  and  went  on  till  she  came  to  the  cherry- 
tree  where  the  doctor  had  hung  Hans's  coat,  which 
he  had  made  her  climb  up  to  redeem.  The  smile 
came  back  to  her  face  as  she  recalled  the  scene. 
He  had  loved  her  then,  when  she  would  sooner 
have  thought  the  skies  would  drop  before  such  a 
miracle  could  take  place.  And  now  she  was  going 
away  with  him  to  be  his  wife,  —  old  tree,  do  you 
hear?  his  wife!  You  never  would  have  thought 
that,  old  tree,  would  you  ?  —  you,  upon  whose 
trusty  branches  his  sturdy  little  limbs  had  clam- 
bered when  he  was  not  much  more  than  a  baby, 
and  he  gathered  your  ripe  red  fruit  with  both 
hands,  and  gayly  threw  it  down  to  the  anxious  old 
Babbett  below.  How  often  he  had  told  her  this, 
and  of  other  little  pranks  the  old  tree  had  been 
silent  witness  to.  Also  it  had  been  witness  of  his 
wooing,  for  there,  right  opposite,  was  the  old  syca- 
more-tree, overshadowing  the  stone  upon  which 
he  had  seated  himself  beside  her  when  first  he 
drew  her  to  his  breast.  Old  tree,  if  you  could 
speak !  You  who  have  seen  the  blissful  ecstasy 
of  my  breast,  and  its  deepest  sorrow  !  Fate  steals 
along  with  swift  noiseless  footstep,  while  we  never 
know  it  is  so  close  upon  our  heels.  What  will  it 
bring  me  in  the  coming  years  ?  —  you  shake  your 
branches,  old  tree,  and  don't  know.  You  will  be 
there,  straight  upright  at  your  post,  when  my  hands 
may  not  gather  your  gracious  bounty  any  more,  — 


390  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

many,  many  years  yet,  after  I  am  laid  low.  How- 
ever, something  I  must  have  of  you,  old  tree,  to 
take  away  with  me,  —  some  tangible  memento 
which  shall  recall  you  to  me,  something  which  at 
times  I  may  look  at,  —  who  knows !  perhaps  weep 
over,  —  something  that  shall  be  as  a  shrine  at 
which  to  renew  old  scenes  and  memories.  But 
now  you  stand  stiff  and  unapproachable,  because 
the  sun  has  not  warmed  your  sap  yet,  like  in 
the  gracious  summer  time  when  you  droop  your 
branches,  with  their  tempting  load,  like  an  allur- 
ing coquette  waiting  to  be  embraced.  High  up 
there,  but  tantalizingly  beyond  my  reach,  there  is 
a  small  twig,  a  pretty,  symmetrical  thing.  That  I 
will  have,  old  tree,  and  it  will  not  hurt  thee,  for 
it  is  so  small  thou  'It  never  miss  it. 

She  looked  around  her  for  a  stout  stick,  long 
enough  to  reach  the  coveted  branch.  But  there  was 
none  in  sight,  for  in  her  painful  neatness  every- 
thing of  the  kind  had  always  been  picked  up  and 
carefully  put  out  of  the  way.  She  walked  over  to 
the  sycamore-tree,  whose  hanging  boughs  she  could 
easily  reach,  and  though  it  hurt  her  to  despoil  it, 
she  tried  to  break  off  a  long  branch.  It  crackled 
and  bent  in  her  grasp,  but  it  would  not  break. 
She  took  hold  of  it  securely ;  it  swayed  hither  and 
thither ;  finally  it  hung  limp  by  a  bit  of  bark.  It 
was  wrenched  off ;  it  had  not  broken. 

There,  where  the  thorns  had  pierced  her  flesh, 
the  blood  broke  out  afresh  again.  She  wrapped 
her  stained  handkerchief  around  it,  grasped  hold 
of  her  stick,  and  commenced  to  aim  at  the  coveted 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  391 

branch.  A  commotion,  at  first  faint,  was  heard 
coming  up  the  road  behind  her.  So  intent  was 
she  upon  bringing  down  her  prize  that  she  paid 
no  attention  to  it.  Nearer  and  nearer  it  came, 
—  women's  voices,  shrill  with  anger,  men's  deeper 
notes,  gruff  and  stern.  The  stick  was  lowered  in 
her  tight  clutch;  with  head  slightly  turned  and 
breath  fluttering  between  half  opened  lips,  she 
listened.  Minka  came  and  placed  herself  close 
beside  her,  watching  with  gleaming  eyes  from 
whence  the  sound  came. 

The  sun  was  about  to  go  down.  A  chill  mist 
arose  from  the  distant  river,  glooming  the  land- 
scape in  a  vaporous  haze.  The  birds  had  ceased 
singing,  a  sudden  pall  seemed  to  spread  itself  far 
and  near.  Now  she  saw  men  and  women,  an 
angry,  excited  mob,  not  many  —  perhaps  a  dozen 
in  all.  They  were  the  riffraff  of  the  village,  the 
idle,  the  lazy,  the  dissolute.  Gret  and  her  hus- 
band were  well  in  advance  —  they  were  running, 
the  rest  trailing  behind,  supporting  the  old  crone 
in  the  rear.  When  they  reached  the  inclosure 
they  saw  the  girl  under  the  bare  and  leafless  tree, 
the  stick  still  grasped  in  her  hand.  A  shout  went 
up  from  them  all ;  helter-skelter  they  leapt  the 
palings,  flinging  the  old  crone  across  as  if  she  were 
a  bag  of  potatoes.  Gret  was  the  first  to  reach  the 
tree  ;  with  venomous  ire  she  shook  her  fist  in  the 
girl's  face. 

"  Lieschen  !  "  she  shrieked.  "  Where  is  my 
child,  my  sweet  little  one  ?  Jade,  what  hast  thou 
done  with  her?" 


392  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  I ! "  stammered  the  girl.  She  was  deadly 
white  ;  her  teeth  chattered  in  her  head. 

"  Aye,  thou,  thou,  thou  !  "  screeched  Gret,  her 
voice  rising  in  shriller  inflections,  as  she  tried  to 
grasp  hold  of  her  arm. 

"  Have  a  care,"  cried  some  one,  "  the  cat  will 
spring  upon  thee  and  claw  thee  to  pieces." 

The  burly  lout,  Gret's  husband,  caught  her  by 
the  arm  and  dragged  her  back.  In  truth  the  cat 
looked  dangerous.  With  her  fur  on  end,  so  that 
she  looked  almost  twice  her  natural  size,  her  lips 
drawn  back  in  a  ferocious  snarl,  showing  the 
gleaming  teeth  between,  her  eyes  dazzling  with 
electric  flashes,  she  crouched  back  ready  to  spring. 
So  formidable  did  she  look  that  even  the  most 
hulking  bully  carefully  backed  out  of  her  reach. 

"The  jade  is  a  witch,"  croaked  the  old  hag, 
"  and  that  beast  is  the  devil's  own  imp,  given  to 
her  as  an  ally.  Surely,  no  one  ever  saw  cat  act 
thus  before." 

"  Aye,  she  is  a  witch.  A  witch  of  a  surety,  —  a 
witch,"  was  tossed  from  one  ignorant  mouth  to 
another. 

"  Else  had  she  not  bamboozled  the  pastor  so," 
cried  Gret.  "  Thou  wanton,  thou  madest  the  good 
Frau  Pastorin  die  so  that  thou  couldst  have  thy 
own  godless  way  in  everything  up  at  the  house, 
thou  jade,  thou." 

"  Let  us  know  what  has  become  of  Lieschen," 
broke  in  her  husband,  "  then  thou  mayest  say 
whatever  is  on  thy  evil  tongue,  and  may  it  fly 
away  with  thee  to  the  devil." 


A  TENT   OF  GRACE  393 

"  I  know  nothing  of  Lieschen,"  said  the  girl. 
Her  temples  were  throbbing  ;  her  wits,  usually  so 
alert,  had  entirely  forsaken  her.  A  scene  arose  in 
her  mind's  eye  —  was  it  not  there,  outside  on  the 
highway,  where  years  ago  they  had  all  but  stoned 
her  to  death  ?  Gret  had  been  there  too  —  they 
were  children  then,  now  they  had  grown  up  in 
strength  and  ferociousness.  Now  the  whole  thing 
would  be  acted  over  again  —  she  knew  it  —  only 
this  time  there  would  be  no  awakening,  only  in 
the  dim  shadow  land  where  her  hunted  soul  would 
be  at  rest.  Already  the  film  of  death  was  over 
her  eyes ;  stark  and  rigid  she  stood  as  if  turned  to 
stone. 

"  Dost  thou  mean  to  say,"  spluttered  the  old 
hag,  "  that  thou  didst  not  draw  the  child  to  thee, 
and  took  her  up  in  thy  arms,  and  cozened  her  and 
wheedled  her,  and  walked  away  to  the  woods  with 
her  ?  " 

"  'T  is  true  I  took  the  child  in  my  arms,"  replied 
the  girl,  "  and  comforted  her  because  she  ran  after 
me  and  would  not  let  me  go." 

"  Aha  !  "  shrieked  Gret.  "  What  didst  thou  lie 
for  then,  and  deny  thou  knewest  anything  of  her  ? 
What  hast  thou  done  with  her  ?  Speak  quick  !  or 
I  will  tear  thy  eyes  out." 

"  I  told  her  to  go  home.  She  went  the  wrong 
way,  but  I  called  her  back,  and  watched  her  run  as 
fast  as  she  could  towards  home." 

"  How  comes  it,  then,"  demanded  her  father, 
"  that  nothing  has  been  seen  of  her  all  the  after- 
noon? To  every  house  in  the  village  have  we 


394  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

been,  everybody  has  been  questioned,  no  one  has 
seen  her  since  she  was  with  thee." 

"  She  took  her  away,"  mumbled  the  old  crone, 
pointing  at  Jette  ;  "  she  carried  her  into  the  woods 
—  I  saw  her.  I  wanted  to  snatch  the  child  away 
from  her,  but  she  would  not  let  me,  and  called  me 
foul  and  abusive  names." 

"  Why  didst  thou  not  come  sooner  and  tell  ?  " 
asked  a  hulking  fellow. 

"  Because  she  is  a  witch,  I  tell  thee,"  whimpered 
the  old  hag ;  "  she  put  a  murrain  upon  me  so  that 
I  stumbled  and  fell,  breaking  my  basket  of  eggs 
under  me.  Had  I  been  lusty  as  thou,  thou  ox,  I 
should  not  have  been  so  long  gathering  myself  to- 
gether again." 

The  wind  blew  a  strand  of  hair  across  the  girl's 
face.  As  she  raised  her  hand  to  brush  it  out  of 
her  eyes  her  mantle  opened,  disclosing  the  blood- 
stained fichu  beneath.  Gret's  eyes  fairly  started 
out  of  her  head,  and  she  raised  her  hand  to  point 
an  accusing  finger  at  it. 

"  She  has  killed  her !  "  she  shrieked  ;  "  she  has 
murdered  my  baby.  Oh,  my  darling,  my  little 
one,  these  eyes  will  never,  never  see  thee  any 
more." 

"What  is  this?"  said  the  father,  aghast; 
"  blood,  girl,  upon  thy  clothing  !  and  thy  hand  — 
see  —  it  is  stained  all  over." 

She  stared  down  as  if  bereft  of  her  senses.  A 
shudder  convulsed  her  from  head  to  foot ;  she  flung 
the  stick  from  her  as  if  it  branded  her  skin.  Her 
handkerchief  fluttered  down  to  the  ground  close  to 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  395 

where  the  man  stood.  A  cry,  which  swelled  to  a 
roar,  went  up  simultaneously,  as  all  dived  down  to 
pick  up  this  indisputable  evidence  of  her  guilt. 
Gret  shrieked  and  wrung  her  hands,  and  was  only 
with  difficulty  restrained  from  flying  at  the  throat 
of  the  girl. 

"  Girl,"  said  the  father  sternly,  "  now  thou 
shalt  confess.  See !  the  stick  is  still  wet  and  slip- 
pery —  whose  blood  is  this  ?  " 

"  Mine,"  she  cried ;  "  the  thorns  pierced  my 
hand,  —  see,  it  bleeds  still.  Are  you  all  mad, 
bereft  of  all  reason  ?  Why  should  I  hurt  the  little 
innocent  ?  —  did  I  not  nurse  her  through  the  fever, 
and  love  her  as  if  she  were  my  own  ?  and  now  you 
accuse  me  of  killing  her  !  " 

"  'T  is  true,"  they  all  said.  They  looked  at 
each  other.  The  time  when  she  had  gone  among 
them,  fearless  of  the  scourge  which  had  devastated 
their  homes,  came  back  to  them. 

But  it  infuriated  Gret  the  more.  Like  a  red 
rag  to  a  mad  bull  was  all  mention  of  that  time  to 
her  when  she  had  fled  in  cowardly  fear,  leaving 
her  sick  child  to  the  mercy  of  strangers. 

"  Thou  wanton,  thou !  "  she  screeched ;  "  thou 
take  care  of  my  child  !  Only  too  glad  wert  thou 
of  the  opportunity  to  meet  thy  paramour,  who  has 
now  left  thee,  as  thou  deservest.  Tell  me,  what 
thou  hast  done  with  the  little  one,  or  I  will  tear 
the  words  from  thy  lying  tongue." 

"  'T  is  useless  to  harass  me  further,"  said  the 
girl ;  "  as  Heaven  hears  me,  I  know  nothing  fur- 
ther of  the  child  than  what  I  have  told  you." 


396  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

"  Go  into  the  woods,"  croaked  the  old  hag  ;  "  I 
warrant  ye,  ye  '11  find  the  little  body  there.  She 
has  killed  her,  and  gathered  the  blood  that  she  may 
sprinkle  it  over  the  altar  in  her  synagogue,  for  it 
is  near  Passover  time." 

At  this,  in  all  her  fright,  the  girl  could  not 
help  laughing,  for  it  sounded  too  grotesque  to 
her.  Infuriated  beyond  all  bounds,  Gret  sprang 
at  her,  dealing  her  a  sounding  blow  on  the  cheek. 
Then  a  fearful  thing  happened.  Before  she  had 
fairly  withdrawn  her  hand  Minka  was  upon  her, 
tearing,  spitting,  clawing,  wherever  she  could  find 
a  place. 

The  most  frightful  shrieks  rent  the  air ;  not  one 
of  those  present  ever  forgot  the  woman's  cries  of 
agony.  They  broke  down  the  trees  in  their  frantic 
efforts  to  arm  themselves  with  something  to  beat 
off  the  savage  animal.  Jette  cried  and  implored 
them  to  let  her  alone  to  manage  the  cat.  She 
was  knocked  down,  trampled  upon  —  savage  fists 
beat  her  till  she  could  neither  see  nor  hear  any 
more. 

"  Die  Post  im  Walde !"  rang  out  clear  and 
shrill.  A  post-chaise  came  whirling  down  the 
road  as  fast  as  the  four  horses,  reeking  with  foam, 
could  bear  it.  In  front  of  one  of  the  postilions  a 
little  child  sat,  her  long  fair  hair  streaming  far 
behind  her. 

"  Lieschen  !  "  cried  all  with  one  accord.  They 
looked  at  each  other ;  they  slunk  away.  Presently 
there  would  be  a  fearful  reckoning  for  them. 

The  father  remained.     His  wife  lay  maimed  and 


A  TENT  OF  GRACE  397 

senseless  on  the  ground,  her  eyes  torn  out  of  her 
head.  But  he  had  his  little  daughter  back,  his 
Lieschen.  He  motioned  the  postilions  to  stop,  and 
the  child  sprang  joyfully  into  his  arms.  The  door 
of  the  post-chaise  was  flung  back,  the  doctor  stepped 
out. 

"  A  little  runaway,"  he  said  genially;  "  we  picked 
her  up  on  the  road  and  brought  her  back."  He 
looked  into  the  man's  face,  saw  the  ashen  pallor 
there,  his  torn,  disordered  clothing,  and  the  terrified 
manner  in  which  he  occasionally  turned  his  head 
toward  the  inclosure.  A  peculiar,  heartrending 
sound  struck  upon  his  ear. 

"Gracious  Heaven,"  he  cried,  "what  is  that?" 
He  looked  over  the  paling,  and  with  one  bound 
vaulted  over.  There  lay  Minka,  her  head  literally 
battered  in,  a  ferocious  grin  upon  her  dead  face. 
Quite  close  to  her  was  Gret,  a  frightful  object  to 
look  upon.  It  was  she  whom  the  doctor  had  heard 
moan.  And  there  prone  upon  her  face  he  saw  her. 


Upon  the  bed  in  which  the  Fran  Pastorin  had 
died  they  laid  her.  The  pastor  knelt  beside  her, 
his  white  head  bowed  in  his  hands.  Babbett  held 
the  cushions  against  the  battered  form,  whose  head 
was  pillowed  on  her  lover's  breast.  Her  breaking 
eyes  were  looking  into  his  breaking  heart.  For 
him  the  sun  would  rise  nevermore,  —  nevermore. 
She  made  an  almost  imperceptible  gesture,  but  he 
understood.  He  put  her  arms  around  his  neck  — 
those  arms  which  had  been  his  all  of  earthly  bliss. 


398  A  TENT  OF  GRACE 

Her  smile,  which  already  saw  heaven  open,  shed 
a  reflecting  halo  over  his  face.  With  a  sigh  which 
received  her  soul  on  its  expiring  breath  she  laid 
her  lips  upon  his.  As  she  had  given  him  her  all, 
so  she  gave  him  her  last.  Her  toil  up  the  moun- 
tain was  done. 


&fce  MtoewDe  $re& 

CAMBRIDGE,   MASSACHUSETTS,    U.   S.   A. 

BLECTROTYPED   AND   PRINTED   BY 

H.  O.   HOUGHTON  AND  CO. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

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